l.i 


Iji 


Vr%  I      A  O  Ol"! 
.BLASCO 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 
THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 
LOS  ANGELES 


S  O  N  N  I  C  A 


BY 

VICENTE  BLASCO  IBANEZ 


Translated  from  the  Spanish  by 
FRANCES  DOUGLAS 


NEW  YORK 
DUFFIELD  &  COMPANY 

1919 


COPYRIGHT  1912 
By  DUFFIELD  &  COMPANY 


Colleg* 
Librorj 


Pfl 

£603 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  AT  APHRODITE'S  TEMPLB       .....  3 

II.  SAOUNTUM 45 

III.  DANCING  GIRLS  FROM  GADEB     ....  95 

IV.  GREEK  AND  CELTIBERIAN 143 

V.  INVASION 174 

VI.    ASBYTE    AND    HANNIBAL 200 

VII.  THE  WALLS  OF  SAGUNTUM 234 

VIII.  THE  ROME  OF  FABIUS  THE  DELAYER      .      .  258 

IX.  THE  HUNGRY  CITY 285 

'       X.  THE   LAST  NIGHT      ....  31 1 


SONNICA 


SONNICA 

CHAPTER  I 
AT  APHRODITE'S  TEMPLE. 

WHEN  the  ship  of  Polyanthus,  the  Saguntine  pilot, 
arrived  off  the  port  of  his  native  land,  the  mariners  and 
fishermen,  their  vision  sharpened  by  ever  watching  the 
distant  horizon,  had  already  recognized  his  saffron- 
dyed  sail  and  the  image  of  Victory,  which,  with  extended 
wings,  and  holding  a  crown  in  her  right  hand,  stretched 
along  the  prow  until  it  dipped  its  feet  in  the  waves. 

"  It  is  Polyanthus'  ship !  It  is  the  Victoriata  return- 
ing from  Gades  and  New  Carthage !" 

To  obtain  a  better  view  they  rushed  out  upon  the 
stone  breakwater  surrounding  the  three  basins  of  the 
port  of  Saguntum,  which  were  connected  with  the  sea 
by  a  long  canal. 

The  low  marshy  land,  overgrown  with  reeds  and  tan- 
gled aquatic  plants,  extended  as  far  as  the  Gulf  of 
Sucro,  which  bounded  the  horizon  by  its  curving  blue 
belt,  and  over  which  the  fishermen's  smacks  skimmed 
like  dragon  flies.  The  trireme  slowly  advanced.  The 
colored  sail  fluttered  in  the  breeze  without  filling,  but 
the  triple  banks  of  oars,  with  rhythmic  movement  along 
its  flanks  caused  the  vessel  to  spring  over  the  white 
foam  lashing  the  entrance  of  the  canal, 

3 


4  S6NNICA 

Night  was  falling.  On  the  hill  near  the  port  the  tem- 
ple of  Venus  Aphrodite  reflected  from  the  polished 
surface  of  its  pediment  the  fire  of  the  setting  sun.  A 
golden  atmosphere  wrapped  the  columns  and  the  blue 
marble  walls,  as  if  the  father  of  day,  before  sinking  to 
rest,  were  greeting  the  goddess  of  the  waters  with  a 
kiss  of  light.  The  chain  of  dark  mountains,  covered 
with  pines  and  shrubbery,  swung  around  the  sea  in  a 
gigantic  semicircle,  embracing  the  fertile  valley  in 
which  lay  the  Saguntine  gardens,  the  white  villas,  the 
rustic  towers  and  the  hamlets  rising  among  the  cluster- 
ing green  trees  of  the  fields.  At  the  other  extreme  of 
this  mountain  barrier,  dimmed  by  the  distance  and  the 
haze  of  the  landscape,  could  be  seen  the  city,  the  an- 
cient Zacynthus,  with  its  dwellings  compressed  within 
walls  and  citadels  upon  the  fold  of  the  hill.  Far  above 
was  the  Acropolis,  with  cyclopean  ramparts  above  which 
rose  the  high-roofed  temples  and  public  buildings. 

The  port  was  enlivened  by  the  stir  of  labor.  Two 
ships  from  Massilia  were  loading  with  wine  in  the  big 
basin.  One  from  Liburnia  was  taking  on  a  cargo  con- 
sisting of  Saguntine  pottery  and  dried  figs,  to  be  sold 
in  Rome,  while  a  galley  from  Carthage  contained  in 
its  hold  great  bars  of  silver  brought  from  the  mines  of 
Celtiberia.  Other  ships,  with  sails  furled  and  their 
banks  of  oars  fallen  against  their  sides,  swung  at  anchor 
near  the  wharf,  like  great  sleeping  birds  gently  nodding 
their  prows  with  figureheads  of  crocodiles  or  of  horses, 
used  by  the  navy  of  Alexandria,  or  displaying  on  the 
stern  a  hideous  red  dwarf  resembling  that  which  decor- 
ated the  vessel  of  the  Phoenician  Cadmus  in  his  as- 
tounding voyages  over  many  seas. 


APHRODITE'S  TEMPLE  5 

The  slaves  bending  under  the  weight  of  amphorae  and 
silver  ingots,  wearing  no  other  clothing  than  a  loin- 
cloth and  a  white  hood,  their  fretted  and  sweating  bodies 
bare,  passed  like  an  endless  rosary  along  the  boards 
leading  from  the  mole  to  the  ships,  as  they  carried  the 
merchandise  from  where  it  lay  piled  on  the  wharf  into 
the  concave  holds  of  the  vessels. 

In  the  centre  of  the  great  middle  basin  rose  a  tower 
guarding  the  entrance  to  the  port;  a  solid  structure  with 
its  stone  foundations  laid  in  the  deepest  water.  Moored 
to  the  rings  which  adorned  its  walls  lay  a  ship  of  war, 
a  Liburnian  galley,  high  of  stern,  the  prow  a  sheep's 
head,  the  great  square  sail  furled,  an  armored  fore- 
castle near  the  mast,  and  on  the  gunwales,  forming  a 
double  row,  the  shields  of  the  classiarii,  soldiers  des- 
tined for  marine  combats.  It  was  a  Roman  vessel  which 
at  daybreak  next  morning  was  to  set  sail,  bearing  the 
ambassadors  sent  by  the  great  Repubb'c  to  settle  the 
political  disorders  which  agitated  Saguntum. 

In  the  second  basin,  a  tranquil  square  of  water  where 
boats  were  constructed  and  repaired,  sounded  the  ham- 
mers of  the  calkers  striking  against  the  wood.  The  dis- 
masted galleys  lay  on  the  bank  like  sick  monsters, 
showing  through  their  lacerated  flanks  their  strong 
frames  and  their  pitch-blackened  interiors.  In  the  third 
and  smallest,  a  lake  of  filthy  waters,  the  fishermen's 
barks  were  anchored.  Flocks  of  gulls  whirled  around 
them,  darting  down  upon  the  spoils  which  floated  on 
the  water,  while  along  the  bank  crowded  women,  old 
men,  and  boys,  awaiting  the  arrival  of  the  barks  with 
fish  from  the  Sucronian  Gulf,  which  were  sold  in  the 
interior  to  the  more  advanced  tribes  of  Celtiberia. 


6  S6NNICA 

The  arrival  of  the  Saguntine  ship  had  drawn  all  the 
people  of  the  port  away  from  their  tasks.  The  slaves 
worked  lazily  while  their  overseers  were  preoccupied 
by  the  entrance  of  the  trireme,  and  even  phlegmatic 
citizens  seated  on  the  mole,  rod  in  hand,  trying  to  cap- 
ture corpulent  eels  which  abounded  in  the  basin,  forgot 
their  fishing  while  they  watched  the  advance  of  the 
Victoriata.  She  had  by  this  time  come  into  the  canal. 
Her  hull  could  not  be  seen.  The  mast,  with  its  motion- 
less sail,  rose  above  the  tall  reeds  which  bordered  the 
entrance  to  the  port. 

The  afternoon  silence  was  interrupted  by  the  hoarse 
cry  of  innumerable  frogs  croaking  in  the  marshes  and 
the  chattering  of  birds  which  fluttered  in  the  olive  trees 
near  the  fane  of  Aphrodite.  The  hammer-blows  of  the 
arsenal  rung  more  and  more  slowly;  the  people  of  the 
port  were  silent,  watching  the  progress  of  the  ship  of 
Polyanthus.  As  the  Victoriata  rounded  the  sharp  bend 
of  the  canal  the  gilded  image  of  the  prow  hove  into 
sight,  and  then  the  first  oars  quickly  followed,  like 
enormous  red  talons,  clutching  the  glossy  surface  of  the 
water  with  a  force  which  flung  aloft  the  white  spray. 

The  crowd,  amid  which  chafed  the  eagerly  watching 
families  of  the  mariners,  burst  into  acclamations  as  the 
ship  swung  into  the  port. 

"  Greeting,  Polyanthus !  Welcome,  son  of  Aphrodite ! 
May  Sonnica,  your  mistress,  overwhelm  you  with 
riches !" 

Naked,  brown-skinned  boys  dived  head-first  into  the 
basin,  swimming  around  the  ship  like  a  swarm  of  young 
Tritons. 

The  people  of  the  port  praised  their  compatriot  Poly- 


APHRODITE'S  TEMPLE  7 

anthus,  exaggerating  his  skill.  According  to  them  his 
ship  lacked  nothing;  well  might  the  rich  Sonnica  be  sat- 
isfied with  her  freedman.  Forward  on  the  vessel  stood  the 
proreta,  motionless  as  a  statue,  watching  with  swift 
glances  to  discover  the  presence  of  obstacles;  the  crew, 
naked,  their  sweaty  backs  glistening  in  the  sun,  bent 
over  the  oars,  and  on  the  poop  the  gubernator,  Polyan- 
thus himself,  insensible  to  weariness,  wrapped  in  his 
ample  red  mantle,  the  tiller  firmly  held  in  his  right  hand, 
and  in  his  left  a  white  staff  which  he  waved  rhythmically, 
marking  the  swing  of  the  rowers.  Near  the  mast  stood 
men  in  strange  costumes,  and  motionless  women  wrapped 
in  flowing  mantles. 

The  ship  glided  into  the  port  like  an  enormous  crus- 
tacean, parting  the  dead  and  silent  waters  with  her 
prow,  which  but  recently  had  been  fretting  the  waters 
of  the  gulf. 

As  she  cast  anchor  near  the  mole  and  threw  out  her 
gang-plank,  the  rowers  were  forced  to  club  back  the 
multitude  which  crowded  forward  eager  to  board  the 
ship. 

The  pilot  gave  orders  from  the  poop;  his  red  robe 
moved  from  place  to  place  like  a  flame  kindled  by  the 
setting  sun. 

"  Eh !  Polyanthus !  Welcome,  navigator !  What  cargo 
do  you  bring?" 

The  pilot  saw  two  young  horsemen  on  the  bank.  The 
one  who  addressed  him  was  wrapped  in  a  white  mantle; 
one  of  its  corners  covered  his  head,  leaving  exposed  his 
beard  done  into  curls  and  lustrous  with  pomatum.  The 
other  clung  to  the  back  of  his  steed  with  his  strong  bare 
legs;  he  wore  the  sagum  of  the  Celtiberians,  a  short 


8  S6NNICA 

wool  tunic  over  which  the  broadsword  hung  from  his 
shoulder,  and  his  hair,  as  thick  and  dishevelled  as  his 
beard,  outlined  a  brown  and  manly  countenance. 

"  Greeting,  Lachares !  Greeting,  Alorcus !"  replied  the 
pilot  with  an  expression  of  respect.  "  Shall  you  see 
Sonnica,  my  mistress?" 

"  This  very  night/'  answered  Lachares.  "  We  sup 
at  her  country-seat.  What  bring  you?" 

"  Tell  her  that  I  have  argentiferous  lead  from  New 
Carthage,  and  wool  from  Baetica.  Excellent  voyage !" 

The  two  youths  tugged  at  their  horses'  reins. 

"Ah!  Wait  a  moment,"  added  Polyanthus.  "Tell 
her  that  I  have  not  forgotten  her  instructions.  I  am 
bringing  what  you  so  greatly  desire,  the  dancing  girls 
from  Gades." 

"  We  are  all  grateful  to  you,"  said  Lachares,  laugh- 
ing. "Hail,  Polyanthus;  may  Neptune  favor  you!" 

The  two  riders  set  off  at  a  gallop,  becoming  lost  to 
view  among  the  hovels  grouped  around  the  base  of  the 
temple  of  Aphrodite. 

Meanwhile  one  of  the  ship's  passengers  landed,  mak- 
ing his  way  through  the  crowd.  He  was  a  Greek.  All 
knew  his  origin  by  the  pilos  which  covered  his  head,  a 
conical  leather  helmet,  after  the  fashion  of  that  worn  by 
Ulysses  in  Greek  paintings.  He  was  clad  in  a  short, 
dark  tunic,  adjusted  around  his  waist  by  a  leather  belt, 
from  which  hung  a  pouch.  His  chlamys,  whicli  did  not 
reach  his  knees,  was  fastened  at  the  right  shoulder  by  a 
copper  brooch;  worn  and  dusty  laced  shoes  covered  his 
stockingless  feet,  and  his  sinewy  arms,  carefully  freed 
from  hair?  rested  on  a  great  dart  which  was  almost  a 
lance.  His  hair,  short  and  arranged  in  thick  curls, 


9 


hung  beneath  the  pilos,  forming  a  hollow  crown  around 
his  head.  It  was  black,  but  silvery  threads  shone  in  it 
and  also  in  his  broad  short  beard.  His  upper  lip  was 
carefully  shaved  in  the  Athenian  style. 

He  was  a  strong  and  agile  man,  in  the  prime  of  life, 
healthy  and  vigorous.  His  eyes  had  an  ironic  glance, 
and  in  them  sparkled  something  of  that  fire  which  re- 
veals men  born  for  warfare  and  for  contact  with  the 
world.  He  walked  at  ease  about  the  unfamiliar  port, 
like  a  traveler  accustomed  to  all  manner  of  contrasts 
and  surprises. 

The  sun  began  to  sink,  and  work  at  the  port  had 
ceased.  The  crowd  which  had  swarmed  on  the  wharf 
was  gradually  scattering.  Bands  of  slaves  stretching 
their  aching  limbs  and  wiping  off  the  sweat,  passed  near 
the  stranger.  Controlled  by  the  clubs  of  their  guards, 
they  were  about  to  be  locked  up  until  the  next  morning 
in  caves  in  the  nearby  hill,  or  in  the  oil  mills  situated 
beyond  the  mariners'  taverns,  the  inns,  and  the  brothels, 
with  their  mud  walls  and  broad  roofs,  which  as  a  com- 
plement to  the  port  were  grouped  at  the  foot  of  the 
hill  of  Aphrodite. 

The  merchants  also  left  in  search  of  their  horses  and 
chariots  to  ride  to  the  city.  They  passed  in  groups, 
looking  over  the  records  on  their  tablets,  and  discussing 
the  operations  of  the  day.  Their  diverse  types,  dress, 
and  bearing,  showed  a  great  mixture  of  races  in  Zacyn- 
thus,  a  commercial  city  to  which  in  ancient  times  flock- 
ed the  vessels  of  the  Mediterranean,  and  whose  traffic 
was  in  rivalry  with  that  of  Emporion  and  Massilia. 
The  Asiatic  or  African  merchants  who  imported  ivory, 
ostrich  feathers,  spices,  and  perfumes  for  the  rich  of 


10  SONNICA 

the  city,  were  distinguished  by  their  majestic  step, 
their  tunics  with  flowers  and  birds  embroidered  in  gold, 
their  green  buskins,  their  tall  embroidered  tiaras,  and 
their  beards  falling  over  their  breasts,  curled  so  as  to 
lie  in  horizontal  waves.  The  Greeks  laughed  and  talked 
incessantly,  jesting  over  their  business  affairs,  and  over- 
whelming with  volubility  the  grave,  bearded,  diffident 
Iberian  exporters  dressed  in  coarse  wool,  who,  with  their 
silence  seemed  to  protest  against  the  stream  of  useless 
words. 

The  wharves  were  deserted  one  after  another,  the  life 
of  the  place  flowing  along  the  road  toward  the  city. 
Horses  galloped,  raising  clouds  of  dust,  chariots  rolled 
along,  and  little  African  donkeys  passed  with  a  short 
trot,  bearing  on  their  backs  some  corpulent  citizen  or 
other,  seated  like  a  woman. 

The  Greek  walked  slowly  along  the  mole  behind  two 
men  clad  in  short  tunics,  wearing  buskins  and  little  con- 
ical hats  with  drooping  brims,  like  those  of  the  Hellenic 
shepherds.  They  were  two  artisans  from  the  city.  They 
had  spent  the  day  fishing,  and  were  returning  to  their 
houses,  gazing  with  ill  dissimulated  pride  at  their  bas- 
kets in  which  writhed  and  wriggled  barbels  and  eels. 
They  were  talking  in  Iberian,  frequently  mixing  Greek 
and  Latin  words  in  their  conversation.  It  was  a  not 
unusual  dialect  in  that  ancient  colony,  which  was  in 
continual  contact  through  commerce  with  the  principal 
peoples  of  the  earth.  The  Greek,  as  he  followed  them 
down  the  wharf  listened  to  their  conversation  with  the 
curiosity  of  a  stranger. 

"  You  will  come  in  my  cart,"  said  one  of  them.  "  My 
donkey  awaits  me  at  Abiliana's  inn.  The  beast  as  you 


APHRODITE'S  TEMPLE  11 

know  is  the  envy  of  all  my  neighbors.  We  shall  yet 
reach  the  city  before  the  gates  are  closed." 

"  I  thank  you,  neighbor.  It  is  not  prudent  to  travel 
alone  when  the  country  is  swarming  with  adventurers 
whom  we  take  as  hirelings  for  the  wars  with  the  Tur- 
detani,  and  all  the  people  who  fled  from  the  city  after 
the  last  revolt.  Day  before  yesterday,  as  you  know, 
the  dead  body  of  Acteio,  the  barber  of  the  Forum,  was 
found  in  the  road.  He  was  assassinated  and  robbed  as 
he  was  returning  from  his  little  country-house  at  night- 
fall." 

"  They  say  that  we  shall  live  more  tranquilly  now 
since  the  Roman  intervention.  The  legates  from  Rome 
have  ordered  a  few  heads  cut  off;  and  they  affirm  that 
after  this  we  shall  have  peace." 

The  two  men  stopped  a  moment  and  turned  their 
heads  to  look  at  the  Roman  liburna,  which  could  barely 
be  distinguished  near  the  tower  in  the  port,  wrapped 
in  the  shadows  of  evening.  Then  they  walked  slowly 
onward,  as  if  in  deep  thought. 

"  You  know,"  continued  one  of  them,  "  that  I  am  only 
a  shoemaker  who  has  his  shop  near  the  Forum  and  has 
been  able  to  save  a  sack  of  silver  victoriati  in  order  to 
live  at  ease  in  his  old  age,  and  to  spend  the  afternoons 
at  the  port,  rod  in  hand.  I  do  not  know  as  much  as 
bhose  rhetoricians  who  stroll  up  and  down  outside  the 
city  wall  disputing  and  shouting  like  Furies,  nor  do  I 
worry  my  brain  as  do  the  philosophers  who  gather  on 
the  porticos  of  the  Forum  to  quarrel  amid  the  jests  of 
the  merchants  as  to  whether  this  or  that  one  of  the  men 
who  occupy  themselves  there  in  Athens  with  such  mat- 
ters is  in  the  right.  But,  with  all  my  ignorance,  I  ask 


12  S6NNICA 

myself,  neighbor,  why  this  strife  between  us  men  who 
live  in  the  same  city  who  should  deal  with  one  another 
like  good  brothers?  Why?" 

The  shoemaker's  comrade  replied  with  vigorous  nods 
of  assent. 

"  I  understand,"  continued  the  artisan,  "  that  from 
time  to  time  we  shall  be  at  war  with  our  neighbors  the 
Turdetani.  Sometimes  on  account  of  a  question  of 
irrigation,  again  on  account  of  pasture-grounds,  but 
mainly  because  of  boundary  lines,  and  to  keep  them  from 
enjoying  this  beautiful  port,  I  understand  that  the  cit- 
izens take  up  arms  and  seek  battle,  going  out  to  des- 
troy their  fields  and  burn  their  huts.  But  those  people 
are  not  of  our  race,  and  that  is  how  a  great  city  makes 
itself  respected.  Besides,  war  yields  slaves,  which  often 
are  scarce,  and  what  would  we  men,  we  citizens,  do  with- 
out slaves?" 

"  I  am  poorer  than  you,  neighbor,"  said  the  other 
fisherman.  "  I  do  not  earn  as  much  making  saddles  as 
you  do  making  shoes;  but  in  spite  of  my  poverty  I 
can  afford  to  have  a  Turdetan  slave,  who  helps  me  very 
much,  and  I  desire  war,  because  it  brings  in  consider- 
ably more  work." 

"  War  with  our  neighbors — that  is  welcome.  The 
young  men  are  restless,  and  seek  ways  of  distinguishing 
themselves,  the  Republic  acquires  importance  in  conse- 
quence, and,  after  tramping  through  valleys  and  moun- 
tains, all  will  buy  shoes  and  have  their  saddles  mended. 
Very  well;  that  enlivens  business.  But  why  have  we 
been  at  work  for  over  a  year  converting  the  Forum  into 
a  battlefield  and  turning  every  street  into  a  fortress? 
At  best  you  are  in  your  shop  extolling  to  a  citizeness 


the  elegance  of  a  pair  of  papyrus  sandals  of  Asiatic 
fashion,  or  of  Greek  buskins  of  great  majesty,  when 
you  hear  in  the  nearest  plaza  the  clash  of  arms,  shouts, 
death  cries,  and  you  rush  to  shut  the  door  so  that  a  stray 
missile  will  not  nail  you  to  your  seat!  And  why?  What 
reason  is  there  for  living  like  cats  and  dogs  in  the  bosom 
of  this  Zacynthus,  which  used  to  be  so  tranquil  and  so 
industrious  ?" 

"  The  pride  and  riches  of  the  Greeks" began  his 

companion. 

"  Yes,  I  know  that  reason.  The  hatred  between 
Iberians  and  Greeks;  the  belief  that  the  latter,  by  their 
riches  and  wisdom,  dominate  and  exploit  the  former — 
as  if  in  the  city  there  actually  existed  Iberians  and 
Greeks!  Iberians  are  those  who  are  behind  those 
mountains  which  mark  off  our  horizon;  a  Greek  is  he 
whom  we  have  seen  disembark,  and  who  is  following 
our  footsteps;  but  we  are  only  sons  of  Zacynthus  or 
of  Saguntum,  as  they  wish  to  call  our  city.  We  are  the 
product  of  a  thousand  encounters  by  land  and  by  sea, 
and  Jupiter  himself  would  be  driven  into  a  corner  to  tell 
who  our  grandparents  were.  Who  can  enumerate  the 
people  that  have  come  here  and  have  remained,  in  spite 
of  others  having  come  afterward  to  wrest  from  them  the 
dominion  of  these  lands  and  mines,  since  Zacynthus 
was  bitten  by  the  serpent  in  these  fields,  and  our  father 
Hercules  raised  the  great  walls  of  the  Acropolis? 
Hither  came  the  peoples  of  Tyre  with  their  red  sailed 
ships  for  the  silver  from  the  interior;  the  mariners  from 
Zante  fleeing  with  their  families  from  the  tyrants  of 
their  country;  the  Rutulian  race  from  Ardea,  people 
from  Italy,  who  were  powerful  in  the  times  when  Rome 


14  SONNICA 

did  not  as  yet  exist;  Carthaginians  of  the  epoch  in 

which  they  thought  more  of  commerce  than  of  arms 

and  how  do  I  know  how  many  other  peoples?  You 
should  hear  the  pedagogues  when  they  explain  our  his- 
tory on  the  portico  of  the  temple  of  Diana !  And  I,  do 
I  know,  perchance,  whether  I  am  Greek  or  Iberian? 
My  grandfather  was  a  freedman  from  Sicily  who  came 
to  take  charge  of  a  pottery  and  married  a  Celtiberian 
from  the  interior.  My  mother  was  a  Lusitanian  who 
came  here  on  an  expedition  to  sell  gold  dust  to  mer- 
chants from  Alexandria.  I  call  myself  a  Saguntine  like 
all  the  rest.  Those  who  consider  themselves  Iberians 
in  Saguntum  believe  in  the  gods  of  the  Greeks;  the 
Greeks  unconsciously  adopt  many  Iberian  customs; 
they  think  themselves  different  because  they  have  divid- 
ed the  city  in  half  and  live  separate;  but  their  feasts 
are  the  same,  and  in  the  next  Panathenaea  you  will  see, 
together  with  the  daughters  of  the  Hellenic  merchants, 
those  of  the  citizens  who  cultivate  the  earth  and  who 
dress  in  coarse  cloth  and  let  their  beards  grow  to  more 
closely  resemble  the  tribes  of  the  interior. 

"  Yes,  but  the  Greeks  dominate  everywhere,  they  are 
masters  of  everything,  they  have  taken  possession  of  the 
life  of  the  city." 

"  They  are  the  wisest,  the  bravest ;  they  have  some- 
thing almost  divine  about  them,"  said  the  shoemaker  sen- 
tentiously.  "See  if  that  is  not  true  of  the  one  who  is 
following  us.  He  is  poorly  dressed ;  perhaps  he  has  not 
an  obolus  in  his  pocket  for  supper;  perhaps  he  will 
sleep  beneath  the  open  sky,  and  yet,  it  seems  as  if 
Zeus  had  come  down  from  the  heavens  in  disguise  to 
visit  us." 


APHRODITE'S  TEMPLE  15 

The  two  artisans  turned  their  gaze  instinctively  to 
look  at  the  Greek,  and  continued  on  their  way.  They 
had  arrived  near  the  huts  which  formed  an  animated 
town  around  the  port. 

"  There  is  another  reason,"  said  the  leather-worker, 
"  for  the  war  which  divides  us.  It  is  not  only  the  hatred 
between  Greeks  and  Iberians,  it  is  because  some  want 
us  to  be  friends  of  Rome  and  others  of  Carthage." 

"  We  should  not  affiliate  with  either,"  said  the  shoe- 
maker tersely.  "  Tranquilly  carrying  on  our  commerce 
as  in  other  times  is  the  way  in  which  we  should  prosper 
best.  I  reproach  the  Greeks  of  Saguntum  for  having 
allied  us  with  Rome." 

"  Rome  is  the  conqueror." 

"  Yes,  but  Rome  is  very  far  away,  and  the  Cartha- 
ginians are  almost  at  our  doors.  Troops  from  New 
Carthage  can  come  here  by  a  few  days'  journey." 

"  Rome  is  our  ally  and  she  will  protect  us.  Her  leg- 
ates, who  leave  to-morrow,  have  put  an  end  to  ou? 
strifes,  beheading  the  citizens  who  disturbed  the  peace 
of  the  city." 

"  Yes,  but  those  citizens  were  friends  of  Carthage 
and  old-time  proteges  of  Hamilcar.  Hannibal  will  not 
easily  forget  his  father's  friends." 

"  Bah !  Carthage  wants  peace  and  wide  commerce 
to  enrich  herself.  Since  her  defeat  in  Sicily  she  fears 
Rome." 

"  The  senators  may  be  afraid,  but  Hamilcar's  son  is 
very  young,  and,  for  my  part,  I  am  afraid  of  these  boys 
converted  into  chiefs,  who  forget  wine  and  love  to  dream 
only  of  glory." 

The  Greek  could  hear  no  more,     The  two  artisans 


16  S6NNICA 

had  disappeared  among  the  huts,  and  the  echo  of  their 
argument  was  lost  in  the  distance. 

The  stranger  was  alone  in  the  unfamiliar  port.  The 
wharves  were  deserted;  lights  began  to  glisten  on  the 
poops  of  the  ships,  and  in  the  distance,  over  the  waters 
of  the  bay,  rose  the  moon  like  an  enormous  honey- 
colored  disk.  Only  in  the  small  fishermen's  ports  lin- 
gered animation.  The  women,  naked  from  above  the 
waist,  tucking  between  their  legs  the  rags  which  served 
them  as  a  tunic,  walked  into  the  water  up  to  their  knees 
to  wash  the  fish,  and  then  putting  them  into  broad  bas- 
kets on  their  heads  they  took  up  their  journey,  drag- 
ging their  big-bellied,  naked  youngsters  after  them. 
From  the  silent  and  motionless  ships  came  groups  of  men 
who  traveled  toward  the  wretched  settlement  spread 
around  the  foot  of  the  temple.  They  were  sailors  going 
in  search  of  taverns  and  brothels. 

The  Greek  knew  those  customs  well;  it  was  a  port 
like  many  others  he  had  seen — the  temple  on  the  hill 
to  guide  the  navigator,  and  below,  wine  in  abundance, 
easy  love,  and  the  sanguinary  fight  as  a  termination 
of  the  feast.  He  thought  for  a  moment  of  starting  on 
the  journey  to  the  city,  but  the  way  was  long,  he  did 
not  know  the  road,  and  he  preferred  to  remain,  sleeping 
where  he  could  until  sunrise. 

He  had  entered  one  of  the  winding  lanes  formed  by 
the  hovels  thrown  together  at  hazard,  as  if  they  had 
fallen  in  confusion  from  the  sky,  with  their  walls  of 
earth  and  roofs  of  reeds  and  straw,  with  narrow  slits 
for  light,  and  with  only  a  few  rags  sewn  together  or  a 
bit  of  threadbare  tapestry,  for  a  door.  In  some,  with 
less  wretched  exteriors,  dwelt  the  modest  traders  of  the 


APHRODITE'S  TEMPLE  17 

port,  ship  chandlers,  dealers  in  grain,  and  those  who, 
with  the  assistance  of  slaves,  brought  casks  of  water  from 
the  springs  in  the  valley  to  the  vessels;  but  the  majority 
of  the  hovels  were  taverns  and  lupanars. 

Some  of  the  houses  had  alongside  the  doors  signs  in 
Greek,  Iberian,  or  Latin,  painted  with  red  ochre. 

The  Greek  heard  some  one  calling  him.  It  was  a 
little,  bald,  fat  man  beckoning  from  the  door  of  his 
dwelling. 

Greeting,  son  of  Athens !"  he  said,  to  flatter  him  with 
the  name  of  the  most  famous  city  of  Greece.  "  Come 
in!  Here  you  will  be  among  your  own,  for  my  fore- 
fathers also  came  from  Athens.  See  the  sign  on  my 
tavern,  'To  Pallas  Athene'.  Here  you  will  find  wine 
from  Laurona,  as  excellent  as  that  from  Attica;  if  you 
wish  to  try  the  Celtiberian  beer,  I  have  it  also,  and  if 
you  desire,  I  can  serve  you  with  a  certain  flask  of  wine 
from  Samos,  as  authentic  as  the  goddess  of  Athens  which 
adorns  my  counter." 

The  Greek  answered  with  a  smile  and  a  shake  of 
his  head,  while  the  loquacious  tavern-keeper  went  into 
his  hut,  lifting  the  tapestry  to  allow  a  group  of  mariners 
to  enter. 

After  a  few  steps  he  stopped,  attracted  by  a  faint 
whistle  which  seemed  to  be  calling  him  from  the  inte- 
rior of  a  cabin.  An  old  woman,  wrapped  in  a  black  man- 
tle, stood  in  her  doorway  making  signs  to  him.  Within, 
by  the  light  of  an  earthern  lamp  hanging  by  a  slender 
chain,  he  could  see  several  women  squatting  on  mats  in 
the  attitude  of  placid  beasts,  with  no  other  sign  of  life 
than  a  fixed  smile  which  displayed  their  shining  teeth. 


18  SONNICA 

"I  am  in  haste,  good  mother,"  said  the  stranger, 
smiling. 

"  Stay  awhile,  son  of  Zeus !"  urged  the  old  woman  in 
the  Hellenic  idiom,  disfigured  by  the  harshness  of  her 
accent  and  by  the  hiss  of  breathing  between  toothless 
gums.  "  The  moment  I  saw  you  I  knew  you  for  a 
Greek.  All  who  come  from  your  country  are  gay  and 
beautiful;  you  look  like  Apollo  seeking  his  celestial  sis- 
ters. Enter !  Here  you  will  find  them " 

Approaching  the  stranger,  and  catching  him  by  the 
border  of  his  chlamys,  she  enumerated  the  charms  of  her 
Iberian,  Balearic,  or  African  wards;  some  majestic  and 
grand  like  Juno,  others  small  and  graceful  like  the 
hetaerae  of  Alexandria  and  Greece;  and  seeing  that  the 
customer  released  his  garment  from  her  clutch  and  con- 
tinued on  his  way,  she  raised  her  voice,  believing  that 
she  had  not  divined  his  taste,  and  she  spoke  of  white 
youths  with  long  hair,  beautiful  as  the  Syrian  boys  who 
were  contended  for  by  the  gallants  of  Athens. 

The  Greek  had  passed  out  of  the  winding  lane,  but  he 
could  still  hear  the  voice  of  the  old  woman,  who  seemed 
to  become  shamelessly  intoxicated  crying  her  infamous 
wares.  He  was  now  in  the  country,  at  the  beginning  of 
the  high  road  to  the  city.  On  his  right  rose  the 
hill  of  the  temple,  and  at  its  base,  opposite  the  flight  of 
stone  steps,  he  saw  a  house  larger  than  the  others,  an 
inn  with  doors  and  windows  illuminated  by  lamps  of 
red  earthernware. 

Seated  on  stone  benches  were  sailors  from  all 
countries,  demanding  food  in  their  several  languages — 
Roman  soldiers  wearing  corselets  of  bronze  scales,  short 
swords  hanging  from  their  shoulders;  at  their  feet  hel- 


APHRODITE'S  TEMPLE  19 

mets  topped  by  a  crest  of  red  horsehair  in  the  form  of 
a  brush;  rowers  from  Massilia,  almost  naked,  their 
knives  half  hidden  among  the  folds  of  the  rag  knotted 
around  their  waists;  Phoenician  and  Carthaginian  mari- 
ners with  wide  trousers,  wearing  tall  caps  in  the  form 
of  mitres  with  heavy  silver  pendants;  negroes  from 
Alexandria,  athletic  and  slow  of  movement,  displaying 
their  sharp  teeth  as  they  smiled,  making  one  think  of 
frightful  cannibalistic  scenes;  Celtiberians  and  Iberians 
with  gloomy  dress  and  tangled  hair,  looking  suspicious- 
ly in  all  directions,  and  instinctively  raising  their  hands 
to  their  broad  knives ;  some  redmen  from  Gaul,  with  long 
mustaches  and  coarse  red  hair  tied  behind  and  falling 
down  their  necks ;  people,  in  fine,  who  had  come,  or  had 
been  flung  by  the  hazards  of  war  and  the  sea,  from  one 
point  of  the  known  world  to  another,  one  day  victorious 
warriors,  and  slaves  the  next,  now  sailors  and  anon 
pirates,  acknowledging  no  law  nor  nationality;  with 
no  other  respect  than  the  fear  of  the  master  of  the 
vessel  who  was  quick  to  order  them  to  the  whip  or  the 
cross ;  with  no  other  religion  than  that  of  the  sword  and 
the  strong  arm;  testifying  by  the  wounds  which  covered 
their  bodies,  in  the  long  cicatrices  which  furrowed  their 
muscles,  by  cuts  on  their  ears  covered  by  matted  hair, 
to  a  past  mysterious  with  horrors. 

Some  ate  standing  by  the  counter,  behind  which  were 
ranged  the  amphorae  corked  with  fresh  leaves;  others 
seated  on  the  stone  benches  along  the  walls  held  earth- 
enware plates  on  their  knees.  Most  had  thrown  them- 
selves down  on  the  floor  upon  their  bellies,  like  wild 
beasts  devouring  their  prey,  reaching  into  their  plates 
with  their  hairy  claws,  crunching  the  food  in  their 


80  S6NNICA 

jaws  as  they  talked.  They  had  not  yet  upset  theii 
wine  nor  asked  for  the  women.  They  ate  and  drank 
with  the  appetite  of  ogres  tormented  by  the  depriva- 
tions of  the  long  voyages,  and  morally  starved  by  the 
brutal  discipline  on  shipboard. 

Finding  themselves  huddled  together  in  a  small  space, 
filled  with  smoke  from  the  lamps  and  with  vapors  from 
the  food,  they  felt  the  necessity  of  communicating  with 
each  other,  and  between  mouthfuls,  each  spoke  to  his 
neighbor,  paying  no  heed  to  difference  of  idiom, 
making  themselves  understood  finally  by  a  language 
composed  more  of  gestures  than  of  words.  A  Cartha- 
ginian was  telling  a  Greek  about  his  last  voyage  to  the 
islands  of  the  Great  Sea,  beyond  the  Pillars  of  Hercules, 
through  a  gray  body  of  water  covered  with  fog,  until 
they  arrived  at  an  abrupt  coast  known  only  to  the  pilots 
of  his  country,  where  tin  was  found.  Farther  down  the 
bench  a  negro,  with  grotesque  mimicry,  was  describing 
to  a  couple  of  Celtiberians  an  excursion  down  the  Red 
Sea,  until  they  reached  mysterious  shores,  deserted  by 
day,  but  covered  by  night  with  moving  fires  and  inhab- 
ited by  hairy  men  as  agile  as  monkeys,  the  skins  of 
some  of  whom  they  stuffed  with  straw  and  carried  to 
the  temples  of  Egypt  to  offer  to  the  gods.  The  older 
Roman  soldiers,  paying  no  attention,  in  their  insolence 
as  conquerors,  to  the  humiliated  Carthaginians  who  were 
listening,  told  of  their  great  victory  on  the  Agates  is- 
lands which  drove  the  Carthaginians  out  of  Sicily, 
ending  the  first  Punic  War.  The  Iberian  shepherds 
mixed  in  among  the  navigators  wished  to  off-set  the 
effect  of  these  maritime  adventures,  and  they  bragged 
pf  the  horses  belonging  to  their  tribe,  and  of  their  mar- 


APHRODITE'S  TEMPLE  £1 

velous  swiftness,  while  a  little  Greek,  lively  and  keen, 
in  order  to  overwhelm  the  barbarians  and  to  demon- 
strate the  superiority  of  his  race,  began  to  declaim  frag- 
ments of  some  ode  learned  in  the  port  of  Piraeus,  or  he 
intoned  a  lyric  poem,  slow  and  sweet,  which  was  lost 
amid  the  noise  of  conversation,  of  crunching  jaws,  and 
of  clattering  plates. 

They  called  for  more  light.  The  smoky  atmosphere 
of  the  inn  was  constantly  growing  denser,  and  the 
frames  of  the  lamps  were  scarcely  more  distinctly  vis- 
ible than  drops  of  blood  on  the  soot-blackened  walls. 
From  the  kitchen  floated  an  odor  of  piquant  sauces  and 
smoky  wood  which  made  many  of  the  customers  cough 
and  weep.  Some  were  drunk  soon  after  beginning  din- 
ner, and  they  asked  the  slaves  for  crowns  of  flowers  to 
adorn  themselves  as  in  the  banquets  of  the  rich.  Others 
growled  applause  as  they  saw  the  den  illuminated  by 
the  lurid  flame  of  the  candlewood  which  the  proprietor 
lighted.  The  slaves  passed  behind  the  stone  counter 
overturning  great  amphorae,  and  ran  into  the  kitchen 
only  to  rush  back  again  immediately,  red  with  suffoca- 
tion, bearing  great  platters.  Wine  ran  across  the  floor 
as  a  crater  was  overturned.  When  there  appeared  at 
the  window  the  painted  faces  of  some  of  the  prostitutes 
— she-wolves  of  the  port — who  were  awaiting  the 
moment  for  making  an  irruption  into  the  inn,  the  mari- 
ners greeted  them  with  hoarse  laughter,  imitating  the 
howl  of  the  beast  after  whom  they  were  nicknamed, 
and  throwing  them  a  portion  of  their  food,  over  which 
the  women  fought,  scratching  and  shrieking. 

The  food  was  all  thirst-giving,  so  that  each  mouthful 
should  be  accompanied  by  a  sip.  The  Greeks  ate  snails 


22  StfNNICA 

floating  in  a  sauce  of  saffron;  fresh  sardines  from  the 
gulf  appeared  arranged  in  circles  around  the  dishes, 
festooned  with  laurel  leaves;  birds'  heads  were  served 
covered  with  green  sauce;  the  Iberian  shepherds  were 
satisfied  with  dried  fish  and  hard  cheese;  the  Romans 
and  Gauls  devoured  great  chunks  of  lamb  dripping 
blood,  and  eels  from  the  basins  of  the  port  decorated 
with  hard-boiled  eggs.  All  these  dishes  and  many  others 
were  loaded  with  salt,  pepper,  and  herbs  of  acrid  odor, 
to  which  the  strangest  qualities  were  attributed.  Every- 
body was  eager  to  spend  his  money,  to  satisfy  his  hun- 
ger and  thirst,  and  to  roll  on  the  floor  drunk,  consoling 
himself  thus  for  the  hard  life  of  privation  which  awaited 
him  on  shipboard.  The  Romans  who  were  to  sail  the 
next  day  had  collected  their  back  pay  and  were  deter- 
mined to  leave  their  sestertii  in  the  port  of  Saguntum; 
the  Carthaginians  boasted  of  their  Republic,  the  richest 
in  the  world,  and  other  mariners  praised  their  masters, 
ever  generous  when  they  touched  that  port  where  busi- 
ness was  excellent.  The  innkeeper  was  continually 
throwing  into  an  empty  amphora  coins  of  all  kinds, 
those  from  Zacynthus,  bearing  the  prow  of  a  ship,  with 
Victory  flying  above  it;  those  from  Carthage  with  the 
legendary  horse  and  the  frightful  Cabiric  deities;  and 
Alexandrian  coins  with  their  elegant  Ptolemaic  profile. 
The  meanest  of  the  rowers  felt  the  caprices  of  a 
potentate,  the  itch  to  imitate  the  opulent  for  a  night 
that  they  might  console  themselves  with  its  memory 
in  future  days  of  hunger;  and  they  asked  for  oysters 
from  Lucrinus,  which  an  occasional  ship  brought  packed 
in  amphorae  with  sea  water  as  a  delicacy  for  the  great 
merchants  of  Saguntum,  or  the  oxygarum,  salted  fish- 


APHRODITE'S  TEMPLE  23 

mill,  prepared  with  vinegar  and  spices  as  an  appetizer 
for  which  the  patricians  of  Rome  paid  a  great  price. 
Black  wine  from  Laurona  and  the  pink  wine  from  the 
Saguntine  vineyards  were  scorned  by  those  who  had 
money.  The  wine  from  Massilia  they  despised  also, 
sneering  at  the  rosin  and  gypsum  employed  in  its  pre- 
paration, and  they  called  for  wines  from  the  Campagna, 
Falerno,  Monte  Massico,  or  Caecubum,  which,  in  spite  of 
the  price,  they  drank  in  capacious  cymbas — boat-shaped 
drinking  vessels  of  Saguntine  clay.  Hungry  for  the 
fresh  products  of  the  field  after  their  long  sojourn  on 
the  sea,  these  men  devoured  immense  quantities  of 
vegetables  and  fruits,  in  addition  to  the  hot  dishes  and 
a  great  variety  of  drinks  ranging  from  Celtiberian 
beers  to  foreign  wines.  They  fell  greedily  upon  the 
plates  of  mushrooms;  they  ate  handfuls  of  radishes 
dressed  with  vinegar;  leeks,  beets,  garlic,  and  heaps  of 
fresh  lettuce  from  the  gardens  of  the  Saguntine  domain 
disappeared  down  their  throats,  while  they  littered  the 
floor  with  green,  muddy  leaves. 

The  Greek  stood  in  the  doorway  with  a  few  of  the 
mariners  who  could  not  find  room  within,  and  contem- 
plated the  spectacle.  As  he  gazed  on  the  rude  banquet 
the  stranger  remembered  that  he  had  not  eaten  since 
morning,  when  the  master  of  the  rowers  on  Polyanthus' 
ship  had  given  him  a  piece  of  bread.  The  novelty  of 
disembarking  in  an  unknown  land  had  quieted  his  stom- 
ach, accustomed  as  it  was  to  privations;  but  now  in 
sight  of  so  many  different  foods  he  felt  the  pangs  of 
hunger,  and  instinctively  set  one  foot  within  the  tavern, 
drawing  it  back  immediately.  What  was  the  use  of  go- 
ing in  ?  The  pouch  hanging  from  his  shoulder  held  papyri 


24  S6NNICA 

testifying  to  his  past  achievements;  tablets  for  memo- 
randa; even  pincers  for  extracting  his  beard;  a  comb; 
all  the  small  objects  of  which  a  good  Greek,  addicted 
to  the  scrupulous  care  of  his  person,  would  not  deprive 
himself,  but  search  in  it  as  he  might  he  could  find  not 
a  single  obolus.  The  pilot,  who  respected  the  Greeks 
of  Attica,  had  given  him  free  passage  on  the  ship  when 
he  met  him  wandering  along  the  wharves  at  New  Car- 
thage. He  was  hungry  and  alone  in  a  strange  land, 
and  if  he  should  enter  the  hostelry  to  eat  without  offer- 
ing money,  he  would  be  treated  like  a  slave,  and  be 
driven  out  with  a  club. 

Mocked  by  the  odor  of  the  viands  and  sauces,  he 
turned  to  flee,  tearing  himself  away  from  this  torture 
of  Tantalus,  but  as  he  drew  back  he  bumped  against  a 
tall  man  clad  only  in  a  dark  sagum  and  sandals  with 
straps  crossed  to  the  knees.  He  resembled  a  Celtiberian 
shepherd;  but  the  Greek,  as  he  collided  with  him,  re- 
ceived the  impression  in  a  hasty  exchange  of  glances 
that  this  was  not  the  first  time  he  had  looked  into  those 
imperious  eyes  which  recalled  to  his  mind  the  eyes  of 
the  eagle  perched  at  the  feet  of  Zeus. 

The  Greek  shrugged  his  shoulders  with  indifference. 
What  he  desired  was  to  satiate  his  hunger  and  to  sleep 
if  possible  until  sunrise.  Turning  his  back  on  the 
wretched  suburb,  illuminated  and  noisy,  he  sought  a. 
place  where  he  might  rest,  and  he  took  the  road  toward 
the  fane  of  Aphrodite.  The  temple,  situated  on  the 
crest  of  the  hill,  was  approached  by  a  broad  stairway 
of  blue  marble,  its  first  step  rising  from  the  quay. 

The  Greek  seated  himself  on  the  polished  stone,  pro- 
posing to  await  there  the  coming  of  the  day.  The  moon 


APHRODITE'S  TEMPLE  25 

illuminated  the  whole  upper  part  of  the  temple;  the 
sounds  from  the  houses  near  the  port,  the  murmur  of  the 
sea,  the  whisper  of  the  olive  trees,  and  the  monotonous 
croaking  of  the  frogs  hidden  in  the  marshes,  floated  to 
him  muffled,  as  if  lulled  by  the  great  calm  of  night. 

Again  and  again  the  Greek  heard  a  strident,  dismal 
cry,  like  the  howl  of  a  wolf.  Suddenly  it  whined  be- 
hind him,  he  felt  a  warm  breath  on  his  back,  and  as  he 
turned  he  saw  a  woman  bending  toward  him,  her  hands 
on  her  knees,  her  mouth  rent  by  a  stupid  smile  which 
displayed  gums,  in  places  lacking  teeth. 

".Greeting,  handsome  stranger!  I  saw  you  flee  from 
the  tumult.  You  must  be  sad  here  all  alone.  I  have 
come  to  make  you  happy.  What!  Can  it  not  be?" 

The  Greek  recognized  her  immediately — a  "she-wolf" 
from  the  port,  a  wretched  woman  such  as  he  had  seen 
swarming  around  the  wharves  in  many  countries;  miser- 
able, cosmopolitan  strumpets,  flames  for  a  single  night 
of  men  of  all  colors  and  races,  with  no  other  ambition 
than  to  earn  a  few  oboli,  slinking  near  a  stone  or  in  the 
shadow  of  a  boat,  old  hetserae  sunk  in  brutality,  fugitive 
slaves  seeking  liberty  in  obscenity  and  drunkenness; 
females  who  represented  all  that  cruel  men  of  the  sea 
knew  of  love;  poor  beasts,  weakened  in  their  youth  by 
excessive  caresses,  and  destined  to  be  treated  with  blows 
in  their  old  age. 

The  stranger  looked  at  the  woman,  who  was  still 
young,  and  detected  some  traces  of  beauty.  But  she 
was  wasted,  her  eyes  lachrymose,  her  mouth  disfigured 
by  broken  teeth.  She  was  wrapped  in  an  ample  man- 
tle which  must  have  been  of  beautiful  weave  but  was  now 
dirty  and  threadbare;  her  feet  were  naked,  and  her 


26  S6NNICA 

tangled  hair,  in  which  the  unhappy  creature  had  thrust 
a  branch  of  wild  flowers,  was  held  by  a  copper  comb. 

"  You  are  wasting  your  time  here/'  said  the  Greek  with 
a  kindly  smile.  "  I  have  not  so  much  as  an  obolus  in 
my  pouch." 

The  man's  gentle  accent  seemed  to  intimidate  the  poor 
unfortunate.  She  was  accustomed  to  blows;  man  to 
her  represented  brutal  assault,  gratification  revealed 
with  bites,  and  in  the  presence  of  the  Greek's  tender 
manner  she  seemed  disconcerted  and  shy,  as  if  she  sus- 
pected danger. 

"  Have  you  no  money?"  she  said  with  humility,  after 
a  long  silence.  "  It  matters  not ;  here  I  am.  You  please 
me;  I  am  your  slave.  Among  all  those  people  rioting 
at  the  hostelry  my  eyes  have  turned  to  you." 

She  bent  over  the  Greek,  caressing  his  curly  hair 
with  her  calloused  hands,  while  he  regarded  her  with 
compassionate  eyes,  seeing  her  shrunken  breast  and  hol- 
low form.  Hungry  and  alone  in  an  unknown  land  he; 
felt  attracted  by  the  kindness  of  the  unhappy  creature; 
there  was  the  fraternity  of  misery  between  them. 

"  If  you  desire  company,  stay  near  me,"  he  said ; 
"  talk  as  much  as  you  wish,  but  do  not  caress  me.  I  am 
hungry;  I  have  eaten  nothing  since  dawn,  and  at  this 
moment  I  would  exchange  all  the  joys  of  Cytherea  for 
the  pittance  of  any  mariner." 

The  harlot  stood  up  straight,  so  great  was  her  sur- 
prise. 

"  You  hungry  ?  You  faint  with  hunger,  when  I  thought 
you  nourished  on  the  ambrosia  of  Zeus  ?" 

Her  eyes  displayed  astonishment  such  as  she  would 
have  felt  had  she  seen  Aphrodite,  the  nude,  white,  god- 


APHRODITE'S  TEMPLE  27 

dess  who  was  guarded  up  there  in  her  temple,  descend 
from  her  marble  pedestal  and  offer  herself  with  open 
arms  to  the  rowers  of  the  port  for  an  obolus. 

"  Wait,  wait !"  she  cried  with  resolution,  after  a 
moment's  reflection. 

The  Greek  saw  her  running  toward  the  huts,  and  when 
at  last  weariness  and  weakness  began  to  close  his  eyes, 
he  felt  her  near  him  again,  touching  his  shoulder. 

"  Take  this,  my  master !  It  has  cost  me  dear  to  obtain 
it.  The  cruel  Lais,  an  old  woman  as  horrible  as  the 
Parcae,  who  helps  us  to  live  through  days  of  privation, 
has  agreed  to  give  me  her  supper,  after  making  me  take 
oath  that  by  the  time  the  sun  rises  I  will  hand  her  two 
sestertii.  Eat,  my  love;  eat  and  drink!" 

She  placed  upon  the  steps  a  loaf  of  brown  bread, 
made  in  the  form  of  a  disk,  some  dried  fish,  half  a  Sagun- 
tine  cheese,  tender  and  oozing  whey,  and  a  jar  of  Celti- 
berian  beer. 

The  Greek  fell  upon  the  food,  and  began  to  devour  it, 
followed  by  the  gaze  of  the  lupa,  which  sweetened  at 
times,  and  acquired  an  almost  maternal  expression. 

"  I  should  like  to  be  as  rich  as  Sonnica,  a  woman 
who  they  say  began  like  any  one  of  us,  and  is  now  mis- 
tress of  many  of  these  ships,  and  has  gardens  as  wonder- 
ful as  Olympus,  troops  of  slaves,  potteries,  and  half  the 
domain  of  the  commonwealth  as  her  own  property.  I 
should  like  to  be  rich  if  only  for  to-night,  to  regale  you 
on  the  best  there  is  in  the  city;  to  give  you  a  banquet 
like  one  of  Sonnica's,  which  last  till  dawn,  and  where, 
crowned  with  roses,  you  should  drink  the  Samian  wine 
from  a  golden  cup." 


28  S6NNICA 

The  Greek,  touched  by  the  simplicity  and  ingenuous- 
ness with  which  she  spoke,  gazed  at  her  tenderly. 

"  Do  not  thank  me,"  she  continued.  "  It  is  I  who 
should  be  grateful  for  the  joy  of  feeding  you.  What  is 
this?  I  know  not.  Never  has  a  man  approached  me 
before  without  giving  me  something;  some  give  me  cop- 
per coins,  others  a  piece  of  cloth  or  a  patera  of  wine; 
most  of  them  blows  and  bites ;  all  have  given  me  some- 
thing, and  I  have  accepted,  though  I  detested  them. 
But  you,  who  come  poor  and  hungry,  who  do  not  seek 
me  but  reject  me,  who  give  me  nothing,  just  your  being 
near  me  has  made  a  new  pleasure  surge  through  my 
body.  As  I  give  you  food  I  feel  intoxicated,  as  if  I  were 
fresh  from  a  banquet.  Tell  me,  Greek,  are  you  really 
a  man,  or  are  you  the  father  of  the  gods,  descending  to 
earth  to  honor  me?" 

Exalted  by  her  own  words,  she  arose,  standing  half 
way  up  the  marble  steps,  and  extending  her  rigid  arms 
toward  the  temple,  bathed  in  moonlight,  exclaimed: 

"Aphrodite!  My  goddess!  If  some  day  I  manage  to 
get  together  the  price  of  two  white  doves,  I  will  present 
them  on  thy  altar,  adorned  with  flowers  and  fire-colored 
ribbons,  in  memory  of  this  night." 

The  Greek  drank  the  bitter  liquid  from  the  jar  and 
offered  it  to  the  woman,  whose  lips  sought  the  same 
spot  on  the  rim  which  had  been  touched  by  his. 

She  did  not  taste  the  supper  which  the  Greek  held 
out  to  her;  she  continued  drinking,  and  the  wine  made 
her  more  talkative. 

"  If  you  only  knew  what  it  has  cost  me  to  get  all  this ! 
The  lanes  are  full  of  drunken  men,  who  wallow  in  the 
mire  and  drag  themselves  along  on  their  hands,  tearing 


APHRODITE'S  TEMPLE  29 

one's  clothing  and  biting  one's  legs.  Wine  runs  out  of 
the  doorways  of  the  inns.  They  were  fighting  on  the 
wharf  a  little  while  ago.  Some  Africans  were  holding 
one  of  their  companions  head  down  in  the  water  to  cure 
his  broken  skull;  a  Celtiberian  had  opened  a  great 
gash  in  it  with  his  clenched  fist.  Others  amused  them- 
selves by  catching  Tuga,  an  Iberian  girl,  by  the  feet, 
and  thrusting  her  head  in  the  biggest  vat  in  the  tavern 
as  long  as  they  dared.  She  was  half  drowned  when  they 
pulled  her  out.  It  is  their  usual  diversion.  I  saw  poor 
Albura,  a  friend  of  mine,  seated  on  the  ground  covered 
with  blood,  holding  in  the  palm  of  her  hand  one  of  her 
eyes  which  a  drunken  Egyptian  had  knocked  out  with  a 
fisticuff.  This  kind  of  thing  happens  every  night!  And 
yet,  all  at  once,  I  have  become  afraid.  I  have  only  just 
met  you,  and  still  it  seems  to  me  as  if  I  were  living  in 
a  new  world,  and  that  for  the  first  time  I  give  heed  to 
my  surroundings." 

She  told  him  the  story  of  her  life.  They  called  her 
Bacchis,  and  she  was  uncertain  what  was  her  native 
land.  No  doubt  she  was  born  in  some  other  port,  for 
she  vaguely  remembered  in  her  childhood  a  long  voy- 
age in  a  ship.  Her  mother  must  have  been  a  lupa  also, 
and  she  herself  the  result  of  a  meeting  with  a  mariner. 
The  name  of  Bacchis,  which  had  been  given  her  when, 
she  was  little,  had  been  borne  by  many  famous  courte- 
sans of  Greece.  No  doubt  she  had  been  sold  to  some 
old  woman  by  the  pilot  who  had  brought  her  to  Sagun- 
tum,  and,  while  still  a  child,  long  before  coming  to  matur- 
ity, was  visited  in  the  old  woman's  hut  by  aged  mer- 
chants of  the  port  or  libertines  of  the  city. 

When  her  owner  died  she  became  a  lupa,  and  passed 


30  S6NNICA 

into  submission  to  mariners,  fishermen,  shepherds  from 
the  mountains,  and  to  all  the  brutal  horde  which  swarmed 
around  the  port.  She  was  not  yet  twenty,  but  she  was 
aged,  disfigured,  wasted  by  excesses  and  by  blows.  She 
had  always  seen  the  city  from  a  distance.  She  had 
only  entered  it  twice.  The  lupas  were  not  tolerated 
there.  They  were  allowed  to  remain  near  the  fane  of 
Aphrodite,  as  a  guarantee  of  the  security  of  Saguntum, 
that  thus  the  rabble  which  came  to  the  port  from  all 
lands  might  be  held  at  a  distance,  but  in  the  city  the 
Iberians  of  cleanly  habits  became  indignant  at  the  mere 
sight  of  the  wantons,  and  the  corrupt  Greeks  were  too 
refined  in  their  tastes  to  feel  pity  for  those  sellers  of 
the  body  who  fell  like  beasts  beside  the  roadway  for 
a  bunch  of  grapes  or  a  handful  of  nuts. 

There  in  the  shadow  of  the  temple  of  Aphrodite  she 
had  spent  her  life,  ever  awaiting  new  ships  and  new  men, 
hairy  and  obscene,  brutal  as  satyrs,  made  ferocious  by 
the  abstinence  of  the  sea,  to  be  at  last  assassinated  in 
some  mariners'  fight,  or  found  the  victim  of  hunger,  dead 
beside  some  abandoned  boat. 

"And  you — who  are  you?"  Bacchis  asked  at  last. 
"What  is  your  name?" 

"  My  name  is  Actaeon ;  my  native  land  is  Athens.  I 
have  traveled  over  the  world;  in  some  parts  I  have 
been  a  soldier,  in  others  a  navigator;  I  have  fought, 
I  have  trafficked,  and  I  have  even  written  verses,  and 
discussed  with  philosophers  things  which  you  do  not  un- 
derstand. I  have  been  rich  many  times,  and  now  you 
give  me  food.  That  is  all  my  story." 

Bacchis  looked  at  him  with  eyes  full  of  admiration, 
divining  through  his  concise  words  a  past  crammed  with 


APHRODITE'S  TEMPLE  31 

adventures,  with  terrible  dangers  and  prodigious  changes 
of  fortune.  She  thought  of  the  deeds  of  Achilles,  and 
of  the  adventurous  life  of  Ulysses,  so  often  heard  in  the 
verses  declaimed  by  Greek  mariners  when  they  were 
drunk. 

The  courtesan,  reclining  on  the  Greek's  breast,  fondled 
his  hair.  The  Greek,  grateful,  smiled  fraternally  on 
Bacchis,  with  indifference,  as  if  she  were  a  child. 

Two  mariners  came  out  from  among  the  huts,  and 
began  to  stagger  along  the  wharf.  A  penetrating 
howl,  which  seemed  to  cleave  the  air,  sounded  close  to 
Actaeon's  ears.  His  companion,  impelled  by  habit,  with 
the  instinct  of  the  vendor  who  sees  a  customer  in  the 
distance,  had  arisen  to  her  feet. 

"  I  will  return,  my  master.  I  had  almost  forgotten 
the  terrible  Lais.  I  must  give  her  her  money  before  the 
sun  rises.  She  will  beat  me  as  she  has  done  before  if  I 
do  not  fulfill  my  promise.  Wait  for  me  here." 

Repeating  her  wild  howl,  she  went  in  search  of  the 
sailors,  who  had  stopped,  hailing  the  "  she-wolf's" 
cries  with  loud  laughter  and  obscene  words. 

When  the  Greek  found  himself  alone,  his  hunger 
placated,  he  felt  a  certain  disgust  in  thinking  of  his 
recent  adventure.  Actaeon  the  Athenian,  he  for  whom 
the  richest  heteerse  of  the  beautiful  city  used  to  dispute 
in  the  Cerameicus,  protected  and  adored  by  a  strumpet 
of  the  port!  To  avoid  meeting  her  again  he  hurriedly 
left  the  temple  steps,  losing  himself  in  the  streets  by  the 
harbor. 

Again  he  stopped  before  the  hostelry  in  the  door- 
way of  which  he  had  experienced  the  torment  of  hunger. 
The  sailors  were  in  the  midst  of  an  orgy.  The  tavern 


32  S6NNICA 

keeper  could  barely  command  respect  behind  the  coun- 
ter. The  slaves,  terrified  by  blows,  had  taken  refuge  in 
the  kitchen.  Some  amphorae  lay  broken  on  the  floor 
letting  the  wine  escape  like  streams  of  blood,  and  the 
drunken  men  wallowed  in  the  gurgling  liquid  as  it  soak- 
ed into  the  earthen  floor,  calling  for  drinks  of  which  they 
had  vaguely  heard  on  distant  voyages,  or  for  fantastic 
dishes  conceived  by  the  little  tyrants  of  Asia.  One 
Herculean  Egyptian  was  running  on  all  fours  imitating 
the  growl  of  the  jackal,  and  biting  the  women  who  had 
entered  the  tavern.  Some  negroes  were  disporting  with 
feminine  movements,  as  if  hypnotized  by  the  whirling 
of  the  umbilical  dance.  In  the  corners,  on  the  stone 
benches,  men  and  women  embraced  in  the  crude  light  of 
the  torches;  the  smell  of  bare  and  sweaty  flesh  mingled 
with  the  aroma  of  wine;  in  the  atmosphere  of  viands 
and  of  wild-beast  odor,  seamen,  forgetting  shame,  com- 
mitted crimes  peculiar  to  the  aberration  of  the  epoch. 

In  the  midst  of  this  disorder  a  few  men  stood  motion- 
less near  the  counter,  arguing  with  apparent  calmness. 
They  were  two  Roman  soldiers,  an  old  Carthaginian 
mariner,  and  a  Celtiberian.  The  torpid  slowness  of  their 
words,  which  in  their  anger  acquired  flute-like  tones, 
their  inflamed  and  blood-shot  eyes,  and  their  hawk-like 
noses,  seeming  to  grow  sharper  as  they  talked,  revealed 
that  terrible  drunkenness,  stubborn  and  quarrelsome, 
which  culminates  in  murder. 

The  Roman  was  telling  of  his  presence  in  the  combat 
on  the  ^Egates  islands,  fourteen  years  before. 

"  I  know  you,"  he  said  insolently  to  the  Carthaginian. 
"  You  are  a  republic  of  merchants  born  for  lying  and 
bad  faith.  If  someone  who  knows  how  to  sell  at  top 


APHRODITE'S  TEMPLE  33 

prices  and  cheat  the  buyer  is  wanted,  I  agree  that  you 
stand  first;  but  talking  of  soldiers,  of  men,  we  are  the 
best,  we  sons  of  Rome,  who  grasp  the  plow  in  one  hand 
and  the  lance  in  the  other." 

He  proudly  raised  his  round  head  with  its  close- 
cropped  hair  and  shaven  cheeks,  on  which  the  chin- 
straps  of  his  helmet  had  worn  hard  calloused  lines. 

Actaeon  looked  through  the  window  at  the  Celtiberian, 
the  only  one  of  the  group  who  remained  silent,  but  who 
had  his  glittering  eyes  fastened  upon  the  bare  neck 
showing  above  the  Roman  legionary's  bronze  corselet, 
as  if  attracted  by  the  coarse  veins  outlined  beneath  the 
skin.  Surely  the  Greek  had  seen  those  eyes  before ;  they 
were  like  an  old  acquaintance  whose  name  one  cannot 
recall.  There  was  something  artificial  about  his  person, 
which  the  Greek  divined  with  his  keen  perception. 

"  I  would  swear  by  Mercury  that  that  man  is  not 
what  he  pretends  to  be.  He  looks  something  more  than 
a  shepherd,  and  the  bronze  color  of  his  face  is  not  that 
of  the  Celtiberians,  no  matter  how  sunburned  they  may 
be.  Perhaps  that  long  hair  which  falls  around  his 
shoulders  is  false " 

He  was  unable  to  observe  him  longer  because  of  the 
dispute  between  the  legionary  and  the  old  Carthaginian, 
who  gradually  approached  each  other  to  hear  better  in 
the  midst  of  the  clamor  which  reigned  in  the  tavern. 

"  I  also  was  on  that  sad  expedition  to  the  JE gates," 
said  the  Carthaginian;  "there  is  where  I  received  this 
wound  that  crosses  my  face.  It  is  true  that  you  con- 
quered us ;  but  what  does  that  show  ?  Many  times  did 
I  see  your  ships  flee  before  ours,  and  more  than  once 
I  counted  Roman  corpses  by  the  hundred  on  the  fields 


34  SONNICA 

of  Sicily.  Ah,  if  Hanno  had  not  arrived  too  late  thai; 
day  of  the  combat  at  the  islands!  If  Hamilcar  had  only 
had  reinforcements !" 

"  Hamilcar !"  disdainfully  exclaimed  the  Roman. 
"  A  great  chief  who  had  to  sue  for  peace !  A  merchant 
turned  warrior!" 

And  he  laughed  with  the  insolence  of  the  strong, 
not  fearing  the  anger  of  the  old  Carthaginian,  who  began 
to  stammer  an  answer. 

The  Celtiberian,  who  had  remained  silent,  laid  his 
hand  upon  the  old  man. 

"  Silence,  Carthaginian !  The  Roman  is  right.  You 
are  peddlers  incapable  of  measuring  up  with  them  in 
war.  You  love  money  too  much  to  dominate  by  the 
sword.  But  Carthage  is  not  made  of  those  of  your 
breed;  there  are  others  born  there  who  will  know  how 
to  stand  up  before  those  peasants  of  Italy !" 

The  Roman,  seeing  the  rustic  intervene  in  the  dis- 
pute, became  still  more  arrogant  and  insolent. 

"And  who  can  that  be?"  he  shouted  scornfully. 
"The  son  of  Hamilcar?  That  youngster  who  they  say 
had  a  slave  for  a  mother?" 

"  Those  who  founded  your  city,  Roman,  were  sons  of 
a  prostitute,  and  the  day  is  not  far  distant  when  the 
horse  of  Carthage  shall  trample  under  foot  the  wolf  of 
Romulus !" 

The  legionary  arose  trembling  with  fury,  feeling  for 
his  sword,  but  he  suddenly  gave  a  savage  growl  and 
fell,  pressing  his  hands  against  his  throat. 

Actaeon  had  seen  the  Celtiberian  introduce  his  right 
hand  into  the  sleeve  of  his  sagum,  and,  drawing  a  knife, 
stab  the  legionary  in  the  thick  neck  he  had  been  staring 


APHRODITE'S  TEMPLE  35 

at  with  the  fixity  of  a  wild  beast  while  the  fallen  man 
mocked  at  Carthage. 

The  tavern  shook  with  the  strain  of  the  combat.  The 
other  Roman  seeing  his  companion  down,  hurled  himself 
at  the  Celtiberian  with  raised  sword,  but  quick  as  a 
flash  he  received  a  thrust  in  the  face  and  was  blinded 
by  a  stream  of  blood. 

The  agility  of  the  man  was  astounding.  His  move- 
ments had  the  elasticity  of  the  panther;  blows  seemed 
to  rebound  from  his  body  without  doing  him  harm. 
Around  him  fell  a  shower  of  jars,  of  broken  amphorae, 
of  swords  hurled  through  the  air ;  but  with  extended  arm, 
and  knife  held  before  him,  he  made  a  spring  toward  the 
door  and  disappeared. 

"  After  him !  After  him !"  clamored  the  Romans,  start- 
ing in  pursuit. 

Attracted  by  the  brutal  joy  of  a  man  hunt,  all 
who  were  sober  enough  to  retain  mastery  of  their  legs 
followed  him  out  of  the  hostelry.  The  horde  of  men, 
fired  by  the  sight  of  blood,  sprang  over  the  bodies  of 
the  dying  Roman  and  the  drunken  sailors  who  lay  snor- 
ing near  him.  The  Greek  saw  them  break  up  into 
groups,  running  in  all  directions  after  the  Celtiberian, 
who  had  disappeared  a  few  steps  distant  from  the  hostel- 
ry as  if  dissolved  into  the  shadow  of  the  night. 

The  port  thrilled  with  the  ardor  of  the  chase.  Lights 
flashed  along  the  wharves  and  through  the  village 
streets;  the  lupanars  and  taverns  were  subjected  to  a 
brutal  overhauling  by  the  Romans  who  were  mad  with 
fury;  a  fresh  fight  started  at  the  door  of  every  hut; 
blood  was  about  to  flow  anew,  when  the  Greek,  fearing 
to  become  involved  in  a  riot,  fled  to  the  temple.  Bacchis 


36  S6NNICA 

had  not  returned,  and  the  Greek  climbed  up  the  steps 
and  stretched  out  on  the  portico,  a  broad  terrace  paved 
with  blue  marble,  over  which  the  fluted  columns  sup- 
porting the  pediment  flung  oblique  bars  of  shadow. 

When  Actaeon  awoke  he  felt  the  warmth  of  the  sun  on 
his  face.  Birds  were  singing  in  the  olive  trees,  and  he 
heard  voices  near.  As  he  arose  he  was  surprised  to  see 
that  day  had  dawned,  for  it  seemed  but  a  few  minutes 
had  passed  since  he  fell  asleep. 

A  woman,  a  patrician,  stood  not  far  away,  smiling 
upon  him.  She  was  robed  in  a  flowing  white  linen  mantle 
which  fell  to  her  feet  in  graceful  folds  like  the  drapery 
of  statues.  A  few  curls  of  blonde  hair  fell  over  her  fore- 
head. Her  lips  were  painted  red,  and  her  black  eyes, 
velvety,  and  with  a  silky  caress  in  their  gaze,  were  sur- 
rounded by  blue  circles  suggesting  a  night  of  fatigue. 
Moving  her  arms  beneath  her  mantle,  hidden  ornaments 
jingled  with  silvery  tones,  and  the  toe  of  her  sandal, 
peeping  from  beneath  the  border  of  her  garment,  shone 
like  a  jewelled  star. 

She  was  followed  by  two  slender  Celtiberian  slaves, 
their  brown,  swelling  breasts  almost  bare,  their  limbs 
wrapped  in  multicolored  cloth.  One  carried  a  pair  of 
white  doves,  the  other  bore  on  her  head  a  basket  of  roses. 

Actaeon  recognized  Polyanthus,  the  Saguntine  pilot, 
and  also  the  perfumed  young  gallant  who  had  been  on 
the  wharf  with  another  horseman  when  the  ship  came  in, 
standing  near  the  handsome  patrician. 

The  Greek  arose,  amazed  at  the  beautiful  apparition 
smiling  upon  him. 

"Athenian,"  she  said  in  Greek  of  the  purest  accent, 
"  J  am  Sonnica,  the  mistress  of  the  ship  which  brought 


37 


you  hither.  Polyanthus  is  my  freedman  and  he  has 
done  well  in  giving  you  passage,  for  he  is  aware  of  my 
interest  in  your  people.  Who  are  you?" 

"  I  am  Actaeon,  and  I  ask  the  gods  to  shower  blessings 
upon  you  for  your  kindness.  May  Venus  guard  your 
beauty  while  you  live." 

"  Are  you  a  navigator?  Are  you  engaged  in  commerce? 
Are  you  traveling  about  the  world  giving  lessons  in 
rhetoric  and  poetry?" 

"  I  am  a  soldier,  as  were  all  my  ancestors.  My  grand- 
father died  in  Italy  covering  with  his  body  the  great 
Pyrrhus  who  wept  for  him  as  for  a  brother.  My  father 
was  a  captain  of  mercenaries  in  the  service  of  Carthage, 
and  was  cruelly  assassinated  in  the  war  called  'inexor- 
able.' " 

He  was  silent  a  moment  as  if  overcome  by  this  recol- 
lection. His  voice  choked,  but  presently  he  added:  "  I 
fought  until  recently  under  the  orders  of  Cleomenes,  the 
last  Lacedaemonian.  I  was  one  of  his  companions,  and 
when  the  hero  suffered  defeat  I  accompanied  him  to 
Alexandria,  afterward  traveling  over  the  world  because 
I  could  not  endure  the  inactivity  of  exile.  I  have  also 
been  a  merchant  in  Rhodes,  a  fisherman  on  the  Bos- 
phorus,  a  farmer  in  Egypt,  and  a  satirical  poet  in 
Athens." 

The  handsome  Sonnica  approached  him  smiling.  He 
was  an  Athenian  possessed  of  all  the  qualities  so  loved 
by  her;  one  of  those  adventurers  accustomed  to  rapid 
changes  of  fortune,  rounders  of  the  world,  who  fre- 
quently chronicle  their  achievements  when  they  have 
reached  old  age. 

"  And  why  have  you  come  hither  ?" 


38  S6NNICA 

"  I  have  come  by  chance.  Your  pilot  offered  to  bring 
me  to  Zacynthus,  and  I  came.  I  felt  stifled  in  New 
Carthage.  I  might  have  enlisted  in  Hannibal's  army; 
it  would  have  been  sufficient  perhaps  to  have  revealed 
my  origin  to  meet  with  welcome.  The  Greeks  are  paid 
great  prices  in  every  army.  But  a  war  is  in  progress 
here  also,  and  I  prefer  to  go  against  the  Turdetani,  to 
serve  a  city  which  I  do  not  know,  but  which  has  never 
done  me  any  harm." 

"  And  did  you  sleep  here  last  night?  Could  you  not 
find  a  bed  in  any  of  the  inns?" 

"  What  I  could  not  find  was  an  obolus  in  my  pouch. 
If  I  appeased  my  hunger,  it  was  due  to  the  charity  of 
a  forlorn  harlot  who  shared  her  meagre  supper  with  me. 
I  am  poor,  and  I  was  faint  for  food.  Do  not  pity  me, 
Sonnica.  Do  not  look  upon  me  with  eyes  of  compassion. 
I  have  given  banquets  which  lasted  from  sunset  until 
dawn.  In  Rhodes,  at  the  hour  of  the  songs,  we  used  to 
throw  the  metal  plates  out  of  the  windows  to  the  slaves, 
The  life  of  a  man  should  be  thus,  like  Homer's  heroes, 
a  king  in  one  place  and  a  beggar  in  another." 

Polyanthus  looked  upon  the  adventurer  with  interest, 
and  the  elegant  Lachares,  who  had  at  first  opposed 
Sonnica  when  she  wished  to  awaken  so  ill-dressed  a 
Greek,  approached  him,  recognizing  Athenian  refine- 
ment beneath  his  humble  exterior,  thinking  to  make  a 
friend  of  him  in  the  hope  of  receiving  lessons  to  his 
advantage. 

"  Come  to  my  villa  at  sunset  to-day,"  said  Sonnica, 
"  You  shall  dine  with  us.  Anyone  can  guide  you  to 
my  house.  One  of  my  ships  has  brought  you  to  this  land, 
and  I  wish  you  to  find  hospitality  beneath  my  roof, 


APHRODITE'S  TEMPLE  39 

Farewell,  Athenian.  I  also  am  from  Athens,  and  seeing 
you  I  imagine  that  the  golden  lance  of  Pallas  on  the 
height  by  the  Parthenon  still  shines  before  my  eyes." 

Bidding  the  Athenian  farewell  with  a  smile,  Sonnica 
turned  toward  the  temple,  followed  by  the  slaves. 

Actaeon  overhead  the  conversation  of  Lachares  and 
Polyanthus  outside  the  temple.  They  had  spent  the 
night  before  at  Sonnica's  house.  They  had  left  the 
table  at  dawn.  Lachares  still  wore  his  banquet  crown, 
but  the  roses  were  withered  and  falling  to  pieces.  When 
Sonnica  heard  of  the  arrival  of  the  dancing  girls  from 
Gades,  whom  she  had  so  impatiently  awaited  to  present 
at  her  suppers,  she  took  a  fancy  to  see  Polyanthus  and 
his  ship,  and  she  wished  to  make  a  sacrifice  to  Aphrodite 
in  passing,  as  she  did  whenever  she  went  to  the  port. 
She  had  come  in  her  great  litter,  accompanied  by  Lach- 
ares and  the  two  slaves,  proposing  to  sleep  on  the  way 
back,  for  she  generally  stayed  in  bed  until  well  past 
the  hour  of  noon. 

The  pilot  withdrew  and  went  toward  his  ship  to  dis- 
embark the  troop  of  dancers,  and  Actaeon  walked  with 
Lachares  to  the  entrance  of  the  open  temple. 

The  interior  was  simple  and  beautiful.  A  great 
square  space  remained  roofless  to  allow  the  light  to 
enter,  and  the  sun's  rays  descending  through  this  open- 
ing gave  the  changing  bluish  green  of  seawater  to  the 
azure  columns  with  their  capitals  representing  shells, 
dolphins,  and  cupids  grasping  the  oar.  At  the  lower 
end  in  a  soft  penumbra,  laden  with  the  perfumes  of  the 
sacrifices,  stood  the  goddess,  white,  arrogant,  and  proud 
in  her  nudity  as  when  she  first  emerged  from  the  waves 
before  the  astonished  eyes  of  men. 


40  SONNICA 

The  altar  was  near  the  door.  Before  it  stood  the 
priest  in  a  full  linen  mantle,  held  to  his  head  by  a  crown 
of  flowers,  receiving  the  offerings  to  the  goddess  from  the 
hands  of  Sonnica  herself. 

Coming  out  upon  the  peristyle  she  swept  with  a  loving 
glance  the  expanse  of  whitecapped  sea,  the  port  glis- 
tening like  a  triple  mirror,  the  immense  green  valley, 
and  the  distant  city,  gilded  by  the  first  rays  of  the 
morning  sun. 

"How  beautiful!  Look  at  our  city,  Actaeon!  Greece 
is  not  more  exquisite." 

At  the  foot  of  the  great  stone  steps  was  her  palanquin, 
which  was  a  veritable  house  closed  by  purple  curtains, 
decorated  at  their  four  corners  with  plumes  of  ostrich 
feathers.  It  was  borne  by  eight  athletic  slaves  with 
swelling  muscles. 

Sonnica  ordered  her  women  to  enter  this  ambulatory 
dwelling;  she  pushed  in  Lachares,  whom  she  treated  as 
an  inferior,  and  whose  familiarity  was  tolerated  as  one 
of  her  caprices;  and,  turning  toward  the  Greek,  who 
stood  on  an  upper  step  of  the  temple,  she  smiled  once 
more,  bidding  him  farewell  with  a  wave  of  a  hand  cov- 
ered to  the  fingernails  with  rings,  which  at  every  move- 
ment traced  streams  of  light  through  the  air. 

The  litter  swiftly  disappeared  along  the  city  road, 
when  suddenly  Actaeon  became  aware  of  hands  caress- 
ing his  neck. 

It  was  Bacchis,  looking  still  more  wasted  and  ragged 
in  the  light  of  day.  She  had  one  eye  blackened,  and 
bruised  spots  on  her  arms. 

"  I  could  not  come  before,"  said  the  slave  humbly. 
"  They  only  let  me  loose  a  little  while  ago.  What  peo- 


APHRODITE'S  TEMPLE  41 

pie!  They  barely  gave  me  enough  to  pay  Lais.  I  have 
been  thinking  of  you  all  night,  god  of  mine,  while  they 
were  tormenting  me,  blowing  in  my  face  like  tired 
satyrs." 

Actaeon  turned  away,  shrinking  from  her  caresses.  He 
perceived  the  odor  of  wine  on  the  wretched  woman, 
drunk  and  exhausted  after  the  adventures  of  the  night. 

"  You  run  away  from  me  ?  Yes,  I  understand !  I  saw 
you  talking  with  Sonnica  the  rich,  she  whom  her  friends 
call  the  most  beautiful  woman  in  Zacynthus.  Are  you 
going  to  be  her  lover?  Oh,  I  know  that  she  will  adore 
you.  But  she  is  only  another  like  myself.  Tell  me, 
Actaeon,  why  do  you  not  take  me  with  you?  Why  do 
you  not  make  me  your  slave?  My  price  will  be  only 
one  night  with  you." 

The  Greek  pushed  aside  the  thin  arms  which  tried 
to  embrace  him,  in  order  to  see  the  road  where  trumpets 
were  blaring,  and  helmets  and  lances  were  gleaming,  in 
the  midst  of  a  great  cloud  of  dust. 

"  Those  are  the  legates  from  Rome  who  are  leaving 
today,"  said  the  woman. 

Attracted  by  the  charm  which  men  of  war  exercised 
upon  her  childish  mind,  she  ran  down  the  steps  to  obtain 
a  closer  view  of  the  ambassadors  and  their  retinue. 

In  advance  marched  the  trumpeters  of  the  Roman 
ship,  blowing  their  long  metal  tubas,  their  cheeks  bound 
by  broad  woolen  bands.  An  escort  of  citizens  of  Sagun- 
tum  surrounded  the  ambassadors,  making  their  shaggy 
Celtiberian  horses  caracole,  waving  their  lances,  their 
heads  covered  with  triple-crested  helmets  which  still 
bore  the  dents  from  blows  received  in  their  latest  skir- 
mishes with  the  Turdetani.  Some  old  men  pf  the  Sagun- 


42  S6NNICA 

tine  senate  rode  sedately  on  heavy  horses,  their  long 
beards  covering  their  breasts.  Their  dark  mantles, 
held  upon  their  heads  by  embroidered  tiaras,  swept  to 
their  stirrups  in  heavy  folds.  The  Roman  ensign,  over- 
topped by  the  wolf,  was  carried  by  a  strong  classiarius, 
and  behind  it  rode  the  legates,  their  round,  shaven 
heads  uncovered.  One  was  obese,  and  had  a  fat,  triple 
chin;  the  other  was  spare,  nervous,  with  a  sharp  aquiline 
nose;  both  wore  embossed  bronze  cuirasses;  their  legs 
were  covered  with  metal  greaves,  and  over  their  pro- 
tuberant thighs  hung  skirts  the  color  jof  wine-lees, 
trimmed  with  loose  strips  of  gold  which  quivered  at  the 
slightest  movement  of  their  steeds.  . 

As  the  procession  reached  the  wharf,  where  swarmed 
groups  of  sailors,  fishermen,  and  slaves,  they  met  a 
band  of  women  wrapped  in  their  mantles,  who  were 
walking  along  guided  by  an  old  man  with  insolent  eyes 
and  sunken  mouth,  wearing  that  repulsive  aspect  ac- 
quired by  eunuchs  who  live  perpetually  in  the  company 
of  enslaved  women.  They  were  the  dancing  girls  from 
Gades,  who,  as  they  left  Polyanthus'  ship,  passed  un- 
noticed in  the  hubbub  of  the  leave-taking. 

Some  women,  issuing  from  the  fish-wharves,  offered 
the  legates  crowns  of  flowers  gathered  from  the  neigh- 
boring hills,  and  lilies  from  the  lagoons.  Acclamations 
arose  throughout  the  entire  length  of  the  quay,  witnessed 
by  groups  of  indifferent  sailors  from  all  countries. 

"  Hail  to  Rome !  May  Neptune  protect  you !  The  gods 
accompany  you!" 

Actaeon  heard  a  mocking  laugh  behind  him,  and  as  he 
turned  he  saw  the  Celtiberian  shepherd  who  had  killed 
the  legionary  in  the  tavern  the  night  before. 


APHRODITE'S  TEMPLE  43 

"You  here?"  the  Greek  exclaimed  with  surprise. 
"  Are  you  alone,  and  do  you  not  hide  from  the  Romans 
who  seek  you?" 

The  imperious  eyes  of  the  shepherd,  those  strange 
eyes  which  aroused  in  the  Greek  confused  and  inex- 
plicable memories,  looked  at  him  with  arrogance. 

"  The  Romans !  I  hate  and  despise  them !  I  would 
go  without  fear  even  to  the  deck  of  their  ship !  Mind 
your  own  affairs,  Actseon,  and  don't  meddle  in  mine." 

"  How  do  you  know  my  name  ?"  exclaimed  the  Athe- 
nian with  growing  amazement,  wondering  also  at  the 
perfection  with  which  the  rude  shepherd  used  the  Greek 
tongue. 

"  I  know  your  name  and  your  life.  You  are  the  son 
of  Lysias,  a  captain  in  the  service  of  Carthage,  and, 
like  all  of  your  race,  you  wheel  around  the  world,  with- 
out finding  contentment  in  any  part." 

The  Greek,  so  strong  and  sure  of  himself  on  most 
occasions,  felt  intimidated  in  the  presence  of  this  enig- 
matic man. 

Absorbed  in  the  contemplation  of  the  cortege  which 
had  come  to  bid  farewell  to  the  legates,  he  had  turned 
his  back  on  Actaeon.  His  eyes  expressed  hatred  and 
scorn  as  he  saw  the  bronze  wolf  of  the  Roman  standard 
flash  in  the  sunlight,  hailed  with  enthusiasm  by  the 
Saguntines. 

"  They  think  themselves  strong;  they  think  themselves 
safe,  because  Rome  protects  them.  They  imagine  Car- 
thage dead,  because  her  Senate  of  shopkeepers  is  afraid 
to  provoke  an  issue  with  an  ally  of  Rome.  They  have 
beheaded  the  Saguntine  friends  of  the  Carthaginian, 
those  who  of  old  were  friends  of  the  Barcas,  and  used 


44  S6NNICA 

to  go  out  to  greet  Hamilcar  when  he  passed  near  the  city 
on  his  expeditions.  They  do  not  know  that  there  is  one 
who  will  not  sleep  as  long  as  peace  exists.  The  world 
is  not  wide  enough  for  these  two  peoples;  either  the  one 
or  the  other !" 

As  if  the  acclamations  of  the  multitude  shouting  fare- 
wells toward  the  small  boat  in  which  the  legates  were 
being  borne  to  the  liburna  and  the  trumpet  blasts  which 
burst  forth  from  the  poop  of  the  vessel,  were  whip- 
lashes to  the  shepherd,  with  clenched  teeth  and  eyes  red 
with  fury,  he  shook  his  sinewy  arms  at  the  ship  and 
muttered  in  menacing  tones: 

"Rome! Rome!" 


CHAPTER   II 

SAGUNTtTM 

THE  sun  was  high  in  the  heavens  when  Actaeon  walked 
toward  the  city  along  the  thoroughfare  called  the  Road 
of  the  Serpent. 

On  his  way  he  overtook  wagons  laden  with  leather 
bottles  of  oil  and  amphorae  of  wine.  The  files  of  slaves 
bending  under  the  weight  of  heavy  burdens,  their  feet 
covered  with  dust,  drew  to  one  side  of  the  road  to  give 
him  passage,  displaying  that  submission  and  shrinking 
which  a  freeman  always  inspired.  The  Greek  paused 
a  moment  before  the  oil  mills,  watching  the  enormous 
stones  revolved  by  chained  slaves;  then  he  continued 
on  his  way  skirting  the  bases  of  the  hills,  on  the  crests 
of  which  rose  the  speculae,  little  red  watchtowers,  which, 
with  their  fires,  announced  to  the  Acropolis  of  Sagun- 
tum  the  arrival  of  ships,  or  any  activity  observed  on  the 
opposite  slope  where  began  the  territory  of  the  hostile 
Turdetani. 

The  fertile  fields  of  the  immense  domain  were  flooded 
by  a  golden  shower  of  morning  sunshine.  From  the 
villages,  from  the  country-houses,  from  the  innumerable 
dwellings  scattered  throughout  the  extensive  valley, 
streamed  people  to  the  Road  of  the  Serpent,  traveling 
toward  the  city. 

The  majority  of  the  Saguntine  people  lived  in  the 

45 


46  SoNNICA 

country,  cultivating  the  soil.  The  city  was  relatively 
small.  In  it  dwelt  only  the  rich  agriculturists,  the 
magistrates,  and  foreigners.  When  some  danger  threat- 
ened, when  the  Turdetani  attempted  an  incursion  into 
the  Saguntine  territory,  all  the  people  streamed  to  the 
city,  seeking  the  shelter  of  its  walls,  and  the  rustics, 
driving  their  flocks  before  them,  mingled  with  the 
artisans  of  Saguntum,  and  took  refuge  within  these 
precincts  which  they  only  visited  when  they  came  to 
town  to  sell  their  wares. 

Actaeon  guessed,  by  the  great  number  of  people  met 
along  the  way,  that  this  must  be  market  day  in  the  Forum. 
The  country  folk  strode  along  in  single  file,  carrying 
on  their  heads  baskets  covered  with  leaves,  clad  only 
in  a  dark  tunic  which  hung  far  down  their  bodies,  out- 
lining their  forms  at  every  step.  The  peasants,  sun- 
browned,  sinewy,  their  single  garment  a  skirt  of  skins 
or  of  coarse  cloth,  guided  oxen  drawing  carts,  or  asses 
laden  with  bundles,  and  up  and  down  the  road  sounded 
the  incessant  jingling  of  bells  from  flocks  of  goats,  and 
the  gentle  lowing  of  cattle,  as  they  trotted  along  in 
clouds  of  red  dust  raised  by  their  sharp  hoofs. 

Some  families  were  already  returning  from  market, 
displaying  with  pride  the  articles  for  which  they  had 
bartered  their  fruits  at  the  booths  in  the  Forum,  and 
their  friends  stopped  them  to  admire  the  new  fabrics, 
the  red  terra  cotta  cups,  fresh  and  brilliant,  the  rudely 
wrought  feminine  ornaments  of  solid  silver,  and  their 
inspection  was  followed  by  a  "salve !"  of  congratulation, 
which  made  their  possessors  flush  with  childish  pride. 

Brown  girls  with  firm,  spare  limbs  and  high  fore- 
heads, their  hair  hanging  loose  in  Celtiberian  fashion, 


SAGUNTUM  47 

marched  in  pairs  carrying  from  their  shoulders  long 
poles  on  which  hung  branches  of  flowers  for  the  ladies 
of  the  city.  Others  carried  enormous  bunches  of  red 
cherries,  wrapped  in  leaves  to  preserve  them  from  the 
dust,  and  at  intervals  they  sprang  and  shouted  between 
outbursts  of  noisy  laughter,  mimicking  the  voices  and 
gestures  of  the  rich  youths  of  Saguntum,  who,  to  the 
great  scandal  of  the  city,  gathered  in  Sonnica's  garden 
to  imitate  before  the  statue  of  Dionysus  the  picturesque 
follies  of  Greece. 

Actaeon  admired  the  beauty  of  the  landscape;  the 
groves  of  fig  trees,  which  lent  fame  to  Saguntum,  just 
beginning  to  put  forth  new  leaves,  forming  upon  their 
ancient  branches  canopies  of  verdure  which  swept  the 
ground;  the  vines,  like  waves  of  emerald,  spreading 
over  the  plain  and  climbing  the  far  off  hills  to  the  for- 
ests of  pine  and  holly;  and  the  olive  orchards  planted 
symmetrically  in  the  red  soil,  forming  colonnades  of 
twisted  branches  with  capitals  of  silvery  leafage.  The 
sight  of  this  splendid  landscape  moved  him,  recalling  to 
mind  memories  of  his  childhood.  The  valley  was 
as  beautiful  as  that  of  Mother  Greece;  here  he  would 
remain  if  the  gods  did  not  urge  him  forward  again  on  his 
restless  pilgrimage  about  the  world. 

He  walked  almost  an  hour,  keeping  ever  before  him 
the  red  mountain  with  the  city  at  its  base,,  and  on  its 
summit  the  innumerable  constructions  of  the  Acropolis. 
At  a  turn  of  the  road  he  saw  the  people  stop  before 
a  shrine — a  long  altar  of  stone,  upon  which  an  enormous 
serpent  of  blue  marble  extended  its  scaly  rings.  The 
rustics  deposited  flowers  and  earthen  cups  of  milk  before 
the  motionless  reptile,  which  with  head  lifted  and  ven- 


48  S6NNICA 

omous  jaws  open  seemed  to  threaten  them.  In  this 
place  the  unfortunate  Zacynthus  had  been  bitten  by  the 
serpent  as  he  was  returning  to  Greece  with  the  red 
cattle  stolen  from  Geryon.  His  body  was  burned  on  the 
Acropolis,  and  the  city  grew  around  the  spot.  The 
simple  people  worshipped  the  reptile  as  one  of  the 
founders  of  their  patria,  and  with  affectionate  words  they 
surrounded  it  with  offerings,  which  mysteriously  disap- 
peared, causing  many  to  believe  that  it  came  to  life  in 
the  dark,  and  they  imagined  that  they  heard  its  fright- 
ful hissing  for  great  distances  on  stormy  nights. 

As  Actaeon  drew  nearer  to  Saguntum  he  saw  the 
tombs  which  rose  on  both  sides  of  the  road,  attracting 
the  attention  of  the  traveler  by  their  inscriptions.  Be- 
hind these  extended  gardens  enclosed  by  thick  hedges 
over  which  peeped  the  branches  of  fruit  trees  belonging 
to  the  country-houses  of  the  rich.  Some  slave  women 
were  watching  nude  children  of  pronounced  Grecian  type 
who  played  and  wrestled.  A  corpulent  old  man,  wrapped 
in  a  purple  chlamys,  stood  in  a  garden  gateway  observ- 
ing the  passing  of  the  flood  of  wretched  people  with  the 
cold  arrogance  of  a  merchant  newly  risen  to  affluence. 
On  the  terrace  of  a  villa  Actaeon  fancied  that  he  saw  a 
gold-dyed  coiffure  in  Athenian  style  interlaced  with 
red  ribbons,  and  near  it  a  waving  fan  of  multicolored 
feathers  of  Asiatic  birds.  These  were  the  villas  of  the 
rich  patricians  of  Saguntum  who  had  retired  from 
business. 

Upon  nearing  the  river,  the  Baetis-Perkes,  which 
divided  the  city  from  the  champaign,  the  Greek  noticed 
that  he  was  walking  beside  a  girl,  almost  a  child,  driv- 
ing a  flock  of  goats  before  her.  Slender,  well-formed, 


SAGUNTUM  49 

with  spare  limbs,  her  skin  a  brown  and  velvety  color, 
she  would  have  looked  like  a  boy  had  it  not  been  that 
her  short  tunic,  open  on  the  left  side,  afforded  glimpses 
of  her  slightly  rounded  breast,  with  a  gentle  cup-like 
curve,  as  it  were  a  bud  beginning  to  expand  with  the 
vigor  of  youth.  Her  black  eyes,  moist  and  large,  seemed 
to  fill  her  whole  face,  bathing  it  with  a  mysterious  efful- 
gence, and  through  her  lips,  dry  and  cracked  by  the 
wind,  shone  her  white  teeth,  strong  and  regular.  Her 
hair  knotted  behind  her  neck  she  had  adorned  with  a 
garland  of  poppies  plucked  in  the  wheat.  She  carried 
over  her  shoulder  with  masculine  ease  a  heavy  net  filled 
with  white  cheeses  as  round  as  loaves  of  bread,  fresh,  and 
still  oozing  whey.  With  her  disengaged  hand  she  was 
caressing  the  white  fleece  of  a  straight-horned  goat,  her 
favorite,  which  rubbed  against  her  limbs,  ringing  a 
little  copper  bell  worn  on  its  neck. 

Actaeon  was  charmed  contemplating  her  girlish  figure, 
so  sturdy  for  labor,  in  which  the  freshness  of  youth  tri- 
amphed  over  fatigue.  Her  slenderness,  with  lines  erect 
and  harmonious,  reminded  him  of  the  elegance  of  the 
Tanagra  figurines  on  the  tables  of  the  hetaerae  of  Athens ; 
of  the  imperious  virility  of  the  canephorse  painted  in 
black  around  Greek  vases. 

The  girl  cast  furtive  glances  at  him,  and  then  smiled, 
showing  her  teeth  with  juvenile  confidence  on  feeling 
herself  admired. 

"  You  are  a  Greek,  are  you  not  ?" 

She  spoke  like  the  people  of  the  port,  in  that  strange 
idiom  of  a  maritime  city  open  to  all  peoples,  a  mixture 
of  Celtiberian,  Greek,  and  Latin. 

"  I  am  from  Athens.    And  you — who  are  you  ?" 


50  SONNICA 

"  I  am  called  Rhanto,  and  my  mistress  is  Sonnica  the 
rich.  Have  you  not  heard  of  her?  Her  ships  are  in 
every  port,  she  has  slaves  by  the  hundred,  and  she  drinks 
from  cups  of  gold.  Do  you  see  above  those  olive  trees, 
on  the  side  toward  the  sea,  that  small  rose-colored  tower  ? 
It  is  the  villa  where  she  lives  as  soon  as  the  passing  of 
winter  allows  her  to  leave  the  city.  I  belong  at  the 
villa,  and  I  am  in  her  service  during  the  open  season. 
My  father  has  charge  of  her  flocks,  and  she  often  comes 
down  to  our  stables  to  play  with  the  goats." 

Actaeon  was  surprised  at  the  frequency  with  which 
he  had  heard  of  Sonnica  since  setting  foot  on  Saguntine 
soil.  The  name  of  that  opulent  woman,  whom  some 
called  "  the  rich,"  and  others  "  the  courtesan,"  was  in 
every  mouth.  The  shepherdess,  who  evinced  a  certain 
attraction  toward  the  stranger,  continued: 

"  She  is  good.  Sometimes  she  seems  sad ;  she  says  she 
languishes  with  tedium  in  the  midst  of  her  riches;  she 
is  indifferent  to  everything,  and  in  that  mood  she  is 
capable  of  letting  all  her  slaves  be  crucified  without 
interfering.  But  when  she  is  happy  she  is  as  kind  as  a 
mother,  and  she  will  not  allow  us  to  be  punished.  Her 
overseer  in  charge  of  the  slaves  is  a  cruel  man,  an 
Iberian  freedman,  who  watches  us,  and  at  every  instant 
threatens  us  with  the  lash  and  the  cross.  He  has  whip- 
ped my  father  several  times  on  account  of  a  lost  ewe, 
or  a  goat  which  had  broken  its  leg,  or  because  a  little 
milk  was  spilled  in  the  cheese-making  season.  I  would 
have  received  his  blows  myself  had  it  not  been  for  the 
respect  he  feels  for  me  on  account  of  having  seen  me 
caressed  sometimes  by  Sonnica." 

Rhanto  spoke  of  the  terrible  situation  of  the  slaves 


SAGUNTUM  51 

with  the  naturalness  of  a  creature  accustomed  from 
birth  to  witnessing  such  severities. 

"  In  winter,"  she  continued,  "  I  go  to  the  mountain 
with  my  father,  and  I  await  with  impatience  the  coming 
of  the  season  when  my  mistress  will  return  to  the  villa, 
and  I  can  come  down  to  the  plain  where  there  are  flowers. 
Then  I  can  spend  the  whole  day  in  the  shade  of  a  tree 
surrounded  by  my  goats." 

"  Ajid  how  have  you  learned  something  of  Greek?" 

"Sonnica  speaks  it  with  rich  people  of  the  city,  who 
are  her  friends,  and  with  the  slaves  who  serve  her. 
Besides " 

She  hesitated,  and  her  pale  cheeks  flushed. 

"  Besides,"  she  persisted,  with  animation,  "  my  friend 
Erotion,  the  son  of  Mopsus,  the  archer  who  came  from 
Rhodes,  speaks  it.  He  is  a  friend  who  helps  me  watch 
the  goats  when  he  is  not  working  in  the  pottery,  which 
also  belongs  to  Sonnica." 

She  pointed  to  the  great  works  near  the  river,  the 
famous  Saguntine  potteries,  which  revealed,  between 
clay  walls,  the  cupolas  of  its  ovens  like  enormous  red 
bee-hives. 

From  one  side  of  the  road  among  the  trees,  sounded 
mellow  notes,  wild  and  joyous  flute-tones,  and  Actaeon 
saw  a  boy  spring  into  the  highway.  He  was  about  the 
same  age  as  Rhanto,  tall,  slender,  barefooted,  clad  only 
in  a  soft  goat-skin  which  hung  over  his  left  shoulder, 
leaving  his  right  exposed,  and  was  tied  together  at  the 
waist.  His  eyes  were  like  live  coals,  his  black  hair  had 
bluish  tones  and,  forming  short  ringlets,  shook  like  a 
heavy  mane  with  the  nervous  movements  of  his  head. 
His  arms,  thin  but  strong,  with  the  skin  stretched 


52  S6NNICA 

by  the  tension  of  veins  and  tendons,  were  stained  to  the 
elbow  by  the  red  potter's  clay. 

Actaeon,  as  he  contemplated  the  short,  correct  profile 
of  the  handsome  youth,  and  the  nervous  vivacity  of  hia 
body,  was  reminded  of  the  apprentices  to  the  sculptors 
at  Athens,  artistic  youths  who  in  the  broad  glare  of  day, 
before  returning  to  the  studios,  scandalized  the  well- 
behaved  citizens  by  their  frolics  in  the  promenade  of 
the  Cerameicus. 

"  This  is  Erotion,"  said  Rhanto,  who  smiled  sweetly 
as  she  saw  her  friend.  "  Although  born  in  Saguntum, 
he  is  a  Greek  like  yourself,  stranger." 

The  youth  did  not  glance  at  the  girl;  he  stood  looking 
at  the  stranger  respectfully. 

"Are  you  from  Athens,  really?"  he  said  with  ad- 
miration. "  You  cannot  deny  it.  You  look  like  Ulysses 
when  he  was  wandering  about  the  world,  passing  through 
the  adventures  related  by  Father  Homer.  I  have  seen 
just  such  as  you  on  vases  and  in  reliefs,  resembling  in 
figure  and  dress  the  husband  of  Penelope.  Greeting, 
son  of  Pallas!" 

"  And  you — are  you  also  one  of  Sonnica's  slaves  ?" 

"  No,"  the  boy  hastily  answered  with  pride.  "  Rhanto 
is  a  slave,  but  perhaps  some  day  she  will  not  be.  I  am 
free;  my  father  is  Mopsus,  a  Greek  from  Rhodes,  and 
the  chief  archer  of  Saguntum.  He  came  from  there  with 
no  other  fortune  than  his  bow  and  arrows,  and  now  he 
is  rich,  since  his  recent  expedition  against  the  Turdetani, 
and  he  figures  as  the  first  in  the  militia  of  the  city.  I 
work  in  the  pottery  for  Sonnica,  who  is  very  fond  of  me. 
She  it  was  who  gave  me  the  name  of  Erotion,  because 
when  I  was  little  I  looked  like  a  cupid.  I  am  not  one 


SAGUNTUM  53 

of  those  who  mould  clay,  nor  turn  the  wheel  to 
shape  the  vases.  They  call  me  the  artist;  I  make  de- 
corations of  foliage,  I  model  animals,  I  can  make  the 
head  of  Diana  from  memory,  and  no  one  can  engrave 
in  clay  the  great  seal  of  Saguntum  as  I  can.  Do  you 
know  what  it  is  like?  A  ship  without  sails,  with  three 
banks  of  oars;  above  it  flies  Victory  in  long  draperies, 
depositing  a  crown  on  the  prow.  I  could,  if  you  wish, 
model  your  figure " 

But  he  stopped,  as  if  ashamed  at  these  last  words, 
and  added  sadly: 

"  How  you  must  be  laughing  at  me,  stranger !  You  come 
from  there,  from  that  marvelous  country  of  which  my 
father  so  often  talks.  You  must  have  seen  the  Parthenon 
and  Athene  Promachos  which  navigators  distinguish  far 
out  at  sea  long  before  they  can  descry  Athens ;  the  won- 
derful procession  of  horses  in  the  metopes ;  the  prodigious 
works  of  Phidias.  How  I  long  to  see  all  that!  When 
a  ship  comes  into  port  from  Greece  I  run  away  from  the 
pottery  and  spend  whole  days  in  the  taverns  with  the 
mariners.  I  drink  with  them,  I  give  them  presents  of  fig- 
urines in  lewd  attitudes,  which  make  them  laugh,  just 
for  the  sake  of  getting  them  to  tell  me  what  they  have 
seen — the  temples,  the  statues,  the  paintings;  and  their 
stories,  instead  of  calming  me,  excite  my  longing  .... 
Ah,  if  Sonnica  would  allow  it !  ....  If  only  she  would 
let  me  go  in  one  of  her  ships  when  they  set  sail  for 
Greece !" 

Afterward,  he  added  earnestly: 

"  This  girl  you  see  here,  my  sweet  Rhanto,  is  all  that 
sustains  me.  If  she  did  not  exist  I  should  long  ago  have 
sought  the  gubernator  of  a  ship,  should  have  sold  my- 


54  S6NNICA 

self  to  him  as  a  slave,  if  necessary,  to  travel  over  the 
world,  to  see  Greece,  and  to  become  an  artist  like  those 
to  whom  you  render  there  the  same  honors  as  to  the 
gods." 

The  three  walked  on  in  silence  for  some  time  behind 
the  cloud  of  dust  raised  by  the  goats.  The  boy  gradually 
recovered  his  serenity  at  the  side  of  Rhanto,  who  had 
taken  one  of  his  hands  in  hers. 

"  And  you — why  do  you  come  here  ?"  he  asked  Actaeon. 

"  I  came  as  did  your  father.  I  am  a  Greek  without 
fortune,  and  I  wish  to  offer  my  arms  to  the  Saguntine 
Republic  in  its  wars  with  the  Turdetani." 

"  Speak  to  Mopsus.  You  will  find  him  in  the  Forum, 
or  above  on  the  Acropolis  near  the  temple  of  Hercules, 
where  the  magistrates  gather.  He  will  be  glad  to  see 
you;  he  adores  those  of  your  race,  and  he  will  stand 
sponsor  for  you  before  the  city." 

Again  silence  fell.  The  Greek  noticed  the  loving 
glances  exchanged  between  the  two  young  people,  the 
fervid  pressure  of  their  clasped  hands,  the  tender  in- 
clination of  their  healthy  young  bodies,  which  seeking 
each  other,  clung  together.  Erotion,  as  if  obeying  an 
unspoken  request  from  his  beloved,  drew  from  his  bosom 
a  flute  made  of  a  hollow  reed,  and  began  to  blow  upon 
it  softly,  producing  tender,  pastoral  music,  to  which  the 
goats  responded  with  bleating. 

The  Greek  realized  that  his  presence  was  becoming 
undesirable  to  the  happy  lovers,  for  they  gradually 
slackened  their  pace. 

"Farewell,  children!  Travel  without  haste;  youth 
is  on  time  whenever  it  arrives.  We  shall  meet  again  in 
the  city." 


SAGUNTUM  55 

"  May  the  gods  protect  you,  stranger,"  replied  Rhanto. 
"If  you  need  anything  you  will  find  me  in  the  Forum 
where  I  have  to  sell  these  cheeses  and  some  others 
which  were  brought  in  the  farmer's  cart  at  dawn." 

"  Farewell,  Athenian !  Speak  to  my  father,  but  do 
not  tell  him  with  whom  you  saw  me." 

Actaeon  crossed  the  river,  picking  his  way  between 
the  carts  which  were  immersed  in  the  water  up  to  their 
axles,  and  stood  before  the  ramparts  of  the  city,  admir- 
ing their  strength,  the  bases  of  undressed  stone,  fitted 
closely  without  mortar,  supporting  wall  and  towers  of 
strong  masonry. 

At  the  gate  of  the  Road  of  the  Serpent,  which  was 
the  main  entrance,  he  was  detained  by  a  jam  of  men^ 
wagons,  and  horses  in  the  narrow  tunnel.  Inside  the 
city,  and  almost  against  the  wall,  was  the  temple  of 
Diana,  a  shrine  known  throughout  the  world  for  its 
antiquity,  and  which  gave  not  a  little  fame  to  the  Sagun- 
tines.  Actaeon  paused  to  admire  the  roof  of  juniper 
planks  of  venerable  age,  but,  eager  to  see  the  city,  he 
continued  on  his  way. 

There  was  to  be  seen  down  at  the  end  of  a  straight 
street,  where  the  buildings  widened  out,  forming  an 
enormous  right-angled  space,  a  great  square  plaza  with 
beautiful  structures  sustained  by  arches,  beneath  which 
the  people  were  swarming.  It  was  the  Forum.  Above 
the  roofs  at  the  lower  end  could  be  seen  houses  and  more 
houses  with  white  walls  climbing  up  the  mountain  slope; 
and  in  the  background  the  walls  of  the  Acropolis,  the 
colonnades  of  the  temples  sustaining  the  friezes  con- 
sisting of  enormous  carved  stones. 


56  SoNNICA 

Actaeon,  following  the  road  leading  to  the  Forum, 
was  reminded  of  the  maritime  suburb  of  the  Piraeus. 
This  was  the  merchants'  district,  inhabited  mainly  by 
Greeks.  The  stir  of  traffic  could  be  seen  through  the 
windows  of  the  lower  stories ;  slaves  were  piling  up  bales ; 
young  men  with  curly  hair  and  aquiline  noses  were 
tracing  on  their  wax  tablets  their  complicated  business 
accounts,  and  samples  of  their  wares  were  exposed  on 
small  tables  before  the  doors  of  the  houses;  there  were 
piles  of  wheat  or  wool  and  heavy  rough  pieces  of  mar- 
ble from  the  quarries.  The  merchants,  standing  in  their 
doorways  and  leaning  against  the  jambs,  talked  with 
their  customers,  gesticulating  and  with  smooth  accent 
calling  upon  the  gods  as  witnesses  that  they  were  being 
ruined  in  their  business. 

In  some  shops,  the  proprietors,  in  vestments  em- 
broidered with  golden  flowers,  wearing  tall  mitres  and 
purple  sandals,  with  light,  sphinx-like  eyes,  and  strok- 
ing the  curls  of  their  perfumed  beards,  listened  in  silence 
to  their  customers.  They  were  traders  from  Africa  and 
Asia,  Carthaginians,  Egyptians,  Phoenicians,  who  dealt 
in  costly  merchandise — trinkets  of  gold,  tusks  of  ivory, 
ostrich  feathers,  and  pieces  of  amber.  Before  their 
doors  paused  rich  women  clad  in  white  mantles,  followed 
by  slaves,  and  as  they  talked  they  peeped  their  rosy 
faces  into  the  shop,  fascinated  by  the  exotic  aroma  of 
stimulating  spices  from  Asia  and  mysterious  perfumes 
from  the  Orient.  Rare  birds  brought  from  the  East 
strode  majestically  among  the  bales  with  strident  calls, 
trailing  their  multicolored  plumage  like  a  royal  mantle. 

Actaeon,  after  hastily  examining  these  shops,  entered 
the  Forum.  It  was  market  day,  and  the  life  of  the  city 


SAGUNTUM  57 

streamed  to  the  great  square.  Farmers  spread  out  their 
garden  stuff  near  the  porticos ;  shepherds  from  the  pub- 
lic domain  piled  their  cheeses  in  pyramids  in  front  of 
little  pitchers  of  milk,  and  women  of  the  port,  brown  and 
almost  naked,  called  attention  to  their  fresh  fish,  arrang- 
ed upon  beds  of  leaves  in  flat  rush  baskets.  At  one  end 
shepherds  from  the  mountain,  dressed  in  esparto,  fero- 
cious of  aspect,  and  armed  with  lances,  watched  over 
cattle  and  horses  offered  for  sale.  These  were  Celti- 
berians,  of  whom  it  was  told  with  horror  that  they 
sometimes  ate  human  flesh,  and  they  seemed  to  feel  im- 
prisoned inside  the  plaza,  contemplating  with  hostile 
eyes  that  bee-like  activity,  so  different  from  the  inde- 
pendent solitude  they  enjoyed  in  their  wandering  life. 
The  riches  excited  their  appetites  for  robbing  and  horse- 
stealing,  and,  grasping  their  lances,  they  stared  with 
ferocious  eyes  at  the  group  of  armed  mercenaries  in  the 
service  of  the  city,  who  at  the  lower  end  of  the  Forum, 
on  the  steps  of  the  temple,  guarded  the  senator  charged 
with  dispensing  justice  on  market  days. 

In  the  centre  of  the  square  swarmed  the  multitude, 
buying  and  dickering,  dressed  in  a  thousand  colors,  and 
speaking  diverse  tongues.  The  virtuous  women  of  the 
city,  simply  dressed  in  white,  passed  along,  followed  by 
slaves  who  deposited  in  netted  sacks  the  provision  for 
the  week ;  the  Greeks,  in  long,  saffron-colored  chlamydes 
investigated  everything,  haggling  tediously  before  mak- 
ing an  insignificant  purchase ;  the  Saguntine  citizens, 
Iberians  who  had  lost  their  primitive  rudeness  through 
infinite  intermarriages,  imitated  the  manner  and  bear-- 
ing  of  the  Romans  who  were  at  the  moment  the  people 
in  highest  esteem.  Mingled  with  these  were  natives  from 


58  S6NNICA 

the  interior,  bearded,  begrimed,  with  long  dishevelled 
hair,  attracted  by  the  market  in  spite  of  their  dislike  for 
the  city,  and  particularly  for  the  Greeks  on  account  of 
their  refinement  and  riches. 

Some  Celtiberians,  chiefs  of  the  tribes  nearest  to  Sa- 
guntum,  remained  on  horseback  in  the  centre  of  the 
Forum,  without  putting  aside  their  lances,  and  still 
clinging  to  their  shields  of  woven  bull-sinews.  They 
wore  triple-crested  helmets  and  leather  cuirasses,  as  if 
they  were  on  hostile  soil  and  feared  treachery.  Mean- 
while their  women,  agile,  brown,  and  masculine,  moved 
from  place  to  place,  their  ample  vestments,  embroidered 
in  gayly  colored  flowers,  fluttering  as  they  walked,  and 
anon  they  stopped  with  childish  admiration  before  the 
table  of  some  Greek  selling  crystal  beads  and  coarsely 
engraved  necklaces  and  trinkets  of  bronze. 

Mantles  of  finest  linen  and  costly  purple  brushed 
against  the  naked  limbs  of  slaves  or  against  the  Celti- 
berian  sagum  of  black  wool  buckled  at  the  shoulder. 
Coiffures  in  Grecian  style  with  red  ribbons  plaited  in, 
the  tuft  of  curls  at  the  back  of  the  head  resembling 
the  flame  of  a  torch,  the  forehead  small  as  a  sign  of 
supreme  beauty,  mingled  with  coiffures  of  the  Celtiberian 
women,  who  wore  their  foreheads  shaven  and  shiny  to 
make  them  larger,  their  hair  curled  around  a  little  stick 
placed  on  their  heads,  forming  a  sharp  horn  from  which 
hung  a  black  veil.  Other  Celtiberian  women  wore  strong 
steel  collars  with  little  wires  which  were  brought  to- 
gether above  the  coiffure,  and  from  this  cage,  which  en- 
closed the  head,  hung  the  veil,  proudly  displaying  their 
enormous  foreheads,  brilliant  and  luminous  as  the  moon 
in  her  first  quarter. 


SAGUNTUM  59 

Actaeon  lingered  wondering  at  the  costumes  of  these 
women,  and  at  their  masculine  and  warlike  aspect.  His 
quick  Grecian  perceptions  divined  danger  as  he  contem- 
plated the  barbarians  motionless  on  their  steeds  in  the 
centre  of  the  Forum,  from  that  height  dominating  with 
looks  of  hatred  this  nation  of  merchants  and  farmers. 
They  were  like  birds  of  prey  that  were  compelled  to 
come  down  to  the  plain  as  thieves  in  order  to  find  food 
for  existence  in  their  arid  mountains.  Saguntum  sur- 
rounded by  such  peoples  would  some  day  have  to  strug- 
gle for  supremacy  against  them. 

The  Greek  pondering  this,  entered  the  colonnades 
where  the  idle  of  the  city  were  gathered  before  the  shops 
of  barbers,  money  changers,  and  vendors  of  wines  and 
refreshments.  Actaeon  could  imagine  himself  still  in 
the  Agora  of  Athens.  Although  smaller,  this  was  the 
same  world  as  his  native  city.  Sedate  citizens  had 
themselves  carried  by  a  slave  in  a  wicker  chair  to  take 
seats  before  the  door  of  some  shop  to  learn  the  news. 
Newsmongers  circulated  from  group  to  group  spreading 
the  most  stupendous  lies;  parasites  seeking  an  invita- 
tion to  dine  flattered  the  rich  whom  they  chanced  to  meet, 
and  spoke  ill  of  everything  that  happened;  unemployed 
pedagogues  disputed  in  loud  tones  over  a  point  in  Greek 
grammar,  and  youthful  citizens  grumbled  against  the 
old  senators,  declaring  that  the  Republic  needed  newer 
blood. 

The  recent  expedition  against  the  Turdetani,  and  the 
great  victory  gained  over  them,  was  much  discussed. 
They  would  no  longer  dare  to  raise  their  heads;  their 
king  Artabanes,  a  fugitive  in  the  most  remote  of  their 
territories,  must  be  punished  for  the  late  defeat.  And 


60  S6NNICA 

the  young  Sagtmtines  looked  proudly  at  the  trophies  of 
lances,  shields,  and  helmets,  hanging  from  the  pilasters 
of  the  porticos.  They  were  the  arms  of  some  hundreds  of 
Turdetani  killed  or  taken  prisoner  on  the  last  expedition. 
Furniture  and  ornaments  stolen  in  the  villages  of  the 
enemy  by  the  warriors  of  Saguntum  were  offered  for  sale 
at  low  prices  in  the  barber-shops.  Nobody  wanted  them. 
The  city  was  filled  with  such  spoils.  The  Saguntine  sol- 
diers had  returned,  dragging  in  their  wake  a  veritable 
army  of  loaded  wagons  and  an  interminable  horde  of 
men  and  beasts.  As  they  thought  of  the  triumph  they 
smiled  with  the  grim  ferocity  of  ancient  warfare,  incap- 
able of  forgiving,  and  in  which  the  greatest  of  mercies 
for  the  conquered  was  slavery. 

The  slave-market  was  situated  near  the  temple  where 
justice  was  administered.  The  slaves  squatted  on  the 
ground  in  a  circle,  covered  with  rags,  their  hands  clasped 
around  their  feet,  their  chins  resting  between  their  knees. 
Those  born  into  slavery  awaited  the  new  master  with  the 
passivity  of  beasts,  their  limbs  emaciated  by  hunger, 
their  heads  shaved  and  covered  by  a  white  cap.  Others, 
more  closely  watched  by  the  slave  dealer,  were  bearded, 
and  over  their  filthy  hair  wore  crowns  of  branches 
to  indicate  their  condition  as  slaves  taken  in  war.  They 
were  Turdetani  who  had  not  given  ransom.  Astonish- 
ment and  fury  at  finding  themselves  reduced  to  slavery 
still  showed  in  their  glowering  eyes.  Many  of  them 
wore  chains,  and  on  their  bodies  the  cicatrices  of  the 
recent  war  were  still  fresh.  They  glared  at  the  hostile 
people,  contracting  their  mouths  as  if  with  desire  to 
bite  and  some  of  them  restlessly  moved  their  right  arms 
which  terminated  in  mere  formless  stumps.  Their  hands 


SAGUNTUM  61 

had  been  cut  off  in  wars  with  tribes  of  the  interior,  whose 
custom  it  was  to  thus  render  their  prisoners  useless. 

The  Saguntines  looked  indifferently  upon  these  ene- 
mies converted  into  chattels,  into  beasts,  by  the  cruel 
law  of  conquest,  and  forgetting  the  presence  of  the 
Turdetani  they  discussed  the  city's  quarrels,  the  rivalry 
of  factions,  which  seemed  to  have  been  stifled  by  the 
intervention  of  the  Roman  legates.  On  the  steps  of  a 
temple  close  at  hand  the  bloodstains  of  those  beheaded 
because  of  their  friendship  for  Carthage  could  still  be 
seen,  and  the  adherents  of  Rome,  who  were  in  the  ma- 
jority, discoursed  bravely  and  praised  the  energetic 
counsel  of  the  envoys  of  the  great  Republic.  The  city 
would  now  live  in  peace  and  security  under  the  pro- 
tection of  Rome. 

Actaeon  while  listening  to  the  conversation  of,  these 
various  groups,  glanced  toward  the  temple  and  thought 
that  he  saw  in  the  crowd  streaming  up  and  down  the 
steps  the  Celtiberian  shepherd  who  had  killed  the  Roman 
legionary  the  night  before.  It  was  a  swift  vision;  his 
dark  sagum  vanished  in  the  multitude,  and  the  Greek 
was  uncertain  if  it  were  really  he. 

The  morning  advanced.  Actaeon  had  spent  a  long  time 
in  the  market,  and  he  thought  that  now  the  hour  had 
come  for  occupying  himself  with  other  matters.  He 
must  see  Mopsus  the  archer,  up  on  the  Acropolis,  and 
he  began  the  ascent  following  winding  streets  paved 
with  cobbles,  and  lined  with  white  houses,  where  in  the 
doorways  sat  women  spinning  and  weaving  wool. 

As  the  Greek  approached  the  Acropolis,  he  admired 
the  cyclopean  walls  of  great  stones  laid  with  rare  art, 
solidly  fitted  without  mortar-joints.  'Here  was  the  era- 


62  SONNICA 

die  of  the  city,  relic  of  the  companions  of  Zacynthus  as 
they  established  themselves  among  the  rude  indigenes. 

He  passed  through  a  long  archway,  and  found  him- 
self on  the  extensive  esplanade  upon  the  eminence,  sur- 
rounded by  ramparts  which  could  shelter  a  population 
as  great  as  Saguntum.  On  this  immense  plain,  scattered 
at  random,  rose  the  public  buildings,  recalling  the  epoch 
when  the  city  stood  on  the  summit  and  had  not  yet  de- 
scended, spreading  toward  the  sea.  From  its  walls 
one  could  take  in  the  immensity  of  the  fertile  domain, 
the  territories  belonging  to  the  Republic,  reaching  out 
of  sight  to  the  south  along  the  shore  toward  the  bound- 
ary of  the  lands  occupied  by  the  Olcades;  the  innumer- 
able villages  and  estates,  grouped  on  the  banks  of  the 
Baetis-Perkes,  and  the  city  opening  like  a  great  white 
fan  down  the  slope  of  the  mount,  enclosed  by  walls  over 
which  the  close-packed  houses  seemed  to  spring  and 
scatter  through  the  orchards. 

Actaeon,  turning  his  gaze  toward  the  enclosed  quarter 
of  the  Acropolis,  noticed  the  temple  of  Hercules;  near 
it  the  portico  on  which  the  Senate  gathered;  the  mint 
where  money  was  coined;  the  temple  where  the  treasure 
of  the  Republic  was  stored;  the  arsenal  where  the  citi- 
zens were  armed;  the  barracks  of  the  mercenaries;  and, 
dominating  all  these  buildings,  the  tower  of  Hercules, 
an  enormous  cyclopean  structure  which  at  night  answer- 
ed with  its  lights  t.o  the  specula  on  the  shore  and  on  the 
hills  around  the  port,  spreading  alarm  or  giving  tran- 
quility  throughout  the  whole  of  the  Saguntine  territory. 
In  another  quarter  a  band  of  slaves,  directed  by  a  Gre- 
cian artist,  was  putting  the  final  touches  on  a  small 


SAGUNTUM  63 

temple  which  Sonnica  the  rich  was  having  raised  on  the 
Acropolis  in  honor  of  Minerva. 

The  Saguntines  who  were  climbing  up  to  the  citadel 
for  a  quiet  stroll,  proudly  viewing  their  city  and  taking 
a  look  at  the  mercenaries  who  were  burnishing  their 
swords  and  their  bronze  cuirasses  at  the  doors  of  their 
barracks,  glanced  curiously  at  the  Greek. 

A  prosperous  looking  Saguntine,  wrapped  in  a  red 
toga  in  Roman  fashion,  and  leaning  on  a  long  staff,  ap- 
proached to  speak  to  him.  He  was  a  middle  aged  man, 
strong,  with  gray  hair  and  beard,  and  a  kindly  expres- 
sion in  his  eyes  and  in  his  smile. 

"  Tell  me,  Greek,"  he  asked  sweetly,  "  why  have  you 
come  hither?  Are  you  a  merchant?  Are  you  a  navigator? 
Do  you  seek  for  your  country  the  silver  which  the  Celti- 
berians  bring  us?" 

"  No,  I  am  a  poor  man  wandering  about  the  world, 
and  I  have  come  to  offer  myself  to  the  Republic  as  a 
soldier." 

The  Saguntine  made  a  gesture  of  distress. 

"  I  should  have  guessed  it  by  the  arm  which  serves  you 
as  a  staff.  .  .  .Soldiers !  Always  soldiers !  In  other  times 
not  a  sword  nor  a  dart  could  be  seen  in  the  city. 
Foreigners  used  to  come  in  ships  loaded  with  merchan- 
dise; they  took  what  we  had,  and  in  return  they  gave  us 
what  they  brought,  and  we  lived  in  that  peace  of  which 
the  poets  sing.  But  now,  those  who  come,  whether 
Greek  or  Roman,  African  or  Asiatic,  present  themselves 
armed ;  ferocious  dogs  who  come  to  offer  themselves  as 
guards  for  the  flock  which  used  to  frolic  in  peace  with- 
out fear  of  enemies.  As  I  behold  all  this  warlike  prep- 
aration, as  I  contemplate  the  youths  of  Saguntum  re- 


64  S6NNICA 

j  oicing  and  boasting  over  their  recent  expedition  against 
the  Turdetani,  I  tremble  for  the  city  and  the  fate  in 
store  for  my  people.  To-day  we  are  the  strongest,  but 
will  not  someone  come  stronger  than  we,  and  clap  upon 
our  necks  the  chains  of  slavery?" 

Over  the  top  of  the  walls  he  looked  down  at  the  city 
with  tender  solicitude. 

"  Stranger/'  he  continued,  "  my  name  is  Alcon,  and 
my  friends  call  me  '  the  Prudent.'  The  old  men  of  the 
Senate  give  heed  to  my  counsels ;  but  the  young  men  will 
not  listen  to  them.  I  have  been  a  merchant,  I  have  run 
over  the  world,  I  have  a  wife  and  children  maintained  in 
comfortable  circumstances,  and  I  am  convinced  that 
peace  means  felicity  for  the  people  and  should  be  main- 
tained at  any  cost." 

"  I  am  Actaeon,  a  son  of  Athens.  I  used  to  be  a  navi- 
gator, but  my  ships  were  wrecked.  I  was  a  trader,  but 
I  lost  my  fortune.  Mercury  and  Neptune  have  ever 
treated  me  like  harsh  and  merciless  fathers.  I  have 
enjoyed  much,  I  have  suffered  still  more,  and  to-day, 
almost  a  beggar,  I  come  here  to  sell  my  blood  and 
brawn." 

"  You  do  wrong,  Athenian.  You  are  a  man,  and  you 
seek  to  turn  yourself  into  a  wolf.  Do  you  know  what 
I  most  admire  in  your  race?  .  .  .  .that  you  jest  at  Her- 
cules and  at  his  deeds;  that  you  worship  Pallas  Athene! 
You  scorn  force,  and  you  worship  intelligence  and  the 
arts  of  peace." 

"  The  strong  arm  is  as  valuable  as  the  head  in  which 
Zeus  kindled  the  divine  spark." 

"  Yes,  but  that  arm  impels  the  head  to  death." 

Actseon  was  impatient  at  Alcon's  words. 


SAGUNTUM  65 

"Do  you  know  Mopsus  the  archer?" 

"  There  he  is,  near  the  temple  of  Hercules.  You  may 
recognize  him  by  his  weapons,  which  he  never  lays  aside. 
He  is  another  of  those  who  drew  hither  the  evil  spirit 
of  war." 

"  Farewell,  Alcon." 

"  May  the  gods  protect  you,  Athenian !" 

Actaeon  recognized  the  valorous  Greek  by  his  bow 
and  by  the  quiver  hanging  from  his  shoulders.  He  was 
a  robust,  long-bearded  man,  who  wore  bound  around 
his  gray  locks  a  bull's  tendon  to  renew  the  one  which 
served  to  string  his  bow.  His  strong  muscular  arms 
revealed  in  the  elasticity  of  their  sinews  the  high  ten- 
sion to  which  they  were  subjected  in  bending  the  strong 
bow  and  in  shooting  the  arrows. 

He  welcomed  Actaeon  with  the  sympathetic  respect 
which  the  Athenians  inspired  in  the  island-Greeks. 

"  I  will  speak  to  the  Senate,"  he  said,  on  learning 
Actason's  aspirations.  "  My  word  will  be  sufficient  to 
have  you  received  among  the  mercenaries  with  all  merited 
distinction.  Tell  me  more  about  your  military  exploits." 

"  I  have  made  war  in  Lacedaemon,  under  the  orders 
of  Cleomenes." 

"  A  famous  captain !  The  renown  of  the  deeds  of  the 
Spartan  king  has  even  reached  these  shores.  What  news 
of  him?" 

"  I  left  him  when,  conquered  but  not  mastered,  he 
took  refuge  in  Alexandria.  There  he  dwelt  as  an  exile 
under  the  protection  of  Ptolemy;  but,  according  to 
what  I  heard  not  long  ago  in  New  Carthage,  he  got  into 
trouble  through  a  palace  intrigue.  The  Egyptian  mon- 
arch ordered  his  execution,  and  Cleomenes,  with  his 


66  SONNICA 

twelve  companions,  died  fighting.  When  he  fell,  a  pile 
of  corpses  lay  before  him." 

"  Worthy  end  for  a  hero !  Where  did  you  learn  the 
military  art?" 

"  I  began  in  Sicily  and  Carthage,  in  the  camps 
of  the  mercenaries,  and  I  finished  my  education  in  the 
Prytaneum  of  Athens.  My  father  was  Lysias,  captain 
in  the  service  of  Hamilcar,  put  to  death  afterwards 
by  the  Carthaginians  in  their  war  with  the  mercenaries, 
which  is  called  the  '  Inexpiable  War.'  ' 

"  Famous  schools,  and  an  excellent  father !  His  name 
also  came  to  my  ears  in  the  epoch  when  I  was  running 
over  the  world,  before  taking  service  in  Saguntum.  You 
are  welcome,  Actaeon!  If  you  wish  to  enlist  HI  the  hop- 
lites,  you  shall  figure  in  the  first  rank  of  the  phalanx 
with  the  heavy  armor  and  the  long  spear.  But,  no, 
you  Athenians  prefer  to  fight  light-armed.  You  are  more 
to  be  feared  in  the  onset  than  on  account  of  the  force 
of  your  blows.  You  shall  be  a  peltast,  with  javelin  and 
light  shield;  you  shall  fight  unhampered,  and  surely 
great  deeds  will  be  related  of  you." 

Some  old  men  whom  the  archer  greeted  respectfully 
passed  near. 

"  Those  are  senators,"  Mopsus  said,  "assembling  be- 
cause it  is  market  day.  Many  of  them  come  from  their 
villas  on  the  public  domain,  and  ride  up  to  the  Acropolis 
in  their  litters.  They  meet  on  that  portico." 

Actaeon  saw  them  taking  their  seats  on  wooden  chairs 
with  curved  claw-legs  supporting  the  head  of  the  Nemean 
lion.  Their  countenances  and  dress  denoted  the  great 
diversity  of  races  existing  in  the  city.  The  men  of 
Iberian  origin  came  from  their  country-houses,  bearded, 


SAGUNTUM  67 

grimy,  with  linen  cuirass  lined  with  heavy  wool,  a  two- 
edged  short  sword  hanging  from  the  shoulder,  and  a  hat 
of  hardened  leather  equivalent  to  a  helmet.  The  Gre- 
cian merchants  presented  themselves  with  faces  shaven, 
wrapped  in  white  chlamys,  from  which  the  right  arm 
emerged  bare;  a  fillet  was  bound  around  the  hair  in 
fashion  of  a  crown,  and  they  were  leaning  on  long  staves 
tipped  by  the  design  of  a  pine  cone.  They  resembled 
the  kings  of  the  Iliad  gathered  before  Troy. 

Actson  noted  among  them  a  giant  with  black  beard 
and  short  curling  hair  which  lay  around  his  head  like 
a  mitre  of  wool.  His  enormous  limbs,  with  protuberant 
muscles  and  elastic  sinews  which  seemed  bursting  with 
strength,  peeped  from  below  the  openings  of  the  red 
mantle  in  which  he  was  wrapped. 

"  That  is  Theron,"  said  the  bowman,  "  the  great 
priest  of  Hercules;  a  prodigious  man,  who  could  con- 
quer a  crown  in  the  Olympic  games.  He  kills  a  bull 
with  a  single  blow  on  its  neck." 

Again  the  Greek  thought  he  recognized  among  the 
people  gathered  near  the  Senate  portico,  the  Celtiberian 
shepherd,  studying  intently  the  gigantic  priest  of  Her- 
cules; but  the  archer  addressed  Actaeon,  compelling  him 
to  turn  his  gaze  away. 

"  The  council  is  about  to  sit,  and  I  must  be  at  the 
foot  of  the  steps  awaiting  orders.  Go,  Actaeon,  and  tarry 
for  me  in  the  Forum.  There  you  will  find  my  boy.  Did 
you  not  say  that  you  met  him  on  the  road?  No  doubt 
he  was  with  that  slave  girl  who  herds  Sonnica's  goats. 
Don't  hesitate,  Actaeon;  don't  tell  a  falsehood.  I  guess 
it.  Ah,  that  boy!  That  vagabond,  who,  instead  of 
working,  races  through  the  fields  like  a  fugitive  slave!" 


68  S6NNICA 

In  spite  of  the  grievousness  with  which  the  archer 
complained,  a  thrill  of  tenderness  was  observable  in  his 
accent,  the  note  of  preference  over  his  other  sons  for 
that  wandering  and  capricious  artist  who  often  aban- 
doned the  paternal  roof  to  roam  about  the  port  and 
through  the  mountains  for  weeks  at  a  time. 

The  two  Greeks  bade  each  other  adieu,  and  Actaeon 
returned  to  the  Forum,  not  without  thinking  that  he  saw 
again,  strolling  about  the  Acropolis,  the  mysterious 
Celtiberian  shepherd.  As  he  entered  the  porticos  he 
heard  hisses  and  shouting;  the  crowds  were  agitated, 
laughing  and  jeering;  people  rushed  from  the  barber- 
shops and  perfumeries.  The  Greek  saw  a  group  of 
luxuriously  dressed  young  men  passing  with  scornful 
smiles  regardless  of  the  tempest  of  hisses  and  sarcasm 
raised  by  their  presence. 

They  were  the  gallants  of  Saguntum;  the  rich  youths 
who  imitated  the  fashions  of  the  Athenian  aristocracy, 
exaggerated  by  distance  and  by  their  lack  of  taste. 
Actaeon  also  smiled,  with  the  cynical  smile  of  an  Athen- 
ian, as  he  observed  the  crudeness  with  which  these 
young  fops  copied  their  distant  models. 

At  their  head  strode  Lachares,  the  gallant  who  had 
accompanied  Sonnica  on  her  morning  visit  to  the  tem- 
ple of  Venus.  They  were  dressed  in  transparent  cloth 
of  screaming  colors  and  subtle  weave,  disclosing  the 
body,  like  the  tunics  worn  by  the  hetaerae  at  banquets. 
Their  cheeks,  carefully  plucked  free  of  hair,  were  tinted 
with  soft  vermilion  and  the  eyes  were  enlarged  with 
black  lines.  The  hair,  curled,  and  perfumed  with  fra- 
grant ointments,  was  confined  by  a  fillet.  Some  wore 
large  hoops  of  gold  in  their  ears,  and  hidden  bracelets 


SAGUNTUM  69 

jingled  as  they  walked.  Others  were  indolently  leaning 
on  the  shoulders  of  small  slave  boys  with  white  backs, 
and  with  hair  hanging  in  heavy  curls,  resembling  girls 
in  the  plumpness  of  their  forms.  As  if  deaf  to  the  in- 
sults and  sarcasms  of  the  people,  they  talked  with  af- 
fected serenity  of  some  Greek  verses  which  one  of 
them  had  composed;  they  discussed  their  merit,  the 
manner  of  accompanying  them  with  the  lyre,  and  only 
stopped  to  caress  the  cheeks  of  their  small  slaves  or  to 
greet  acquaintances,  well  pleased  at  heart  over  the 
scandal  their  presence  caused  in  the  Forum. 

"  Do  not  tell  me  that  they  imitate  the  Greeks,"  shouted 
an  old  man  with  malicious  face,  clad  in  the  patched  and 
filthy  mantle  of  an  unemployed  pedagogue.  "  The  fire 
of  the  gods  shall  be  hurled  upon  the  city.  It  is  true  that 
in  a  moment  of  emotion  our  father  Zeus  carried  off  the 
beautiful  Ganymede;  but  how  about  Leda  and  all  the 
innumerable  beauties  touched  by  the  fire  of  the  Lord 
of  Olympus?  A  fine  place  the  world  would  be  if  men 
were  to  imitate  the  gods  and  were  to  behave  as  do  these 
fools,  dressing  themselves  like  women!  Do  you  wish 
to  see  a  Greek?  Well,  there  is  one  for  you.  That  is  a 
true  son  of  Hellas." 

He  pointed  to  Actaeon,  who  found  himself  the  target 
for  curious  glances  from  the  assembled  people. 

"  How  you  must  laugh,  stranger,  at  seeing  those  miser- 
able creatures  who  stupidly  believe  they  are  copying 
your  country,"  the  beggarly  phrenetic  continued  shout- 
ing. "I  am  a  philosopher;  do  you  know  that?  The 
only  philosopher  in  Saguntum,  and  by  the  same  token 
you  will  guess  that  these  ungrateful  people  are  quite 
willing  to  let  me  starve  to  death.  As  a  young  man  I 


70  S6NNICA 

lived  in  Athens;  I  attended  the  schools;  I  gave  up  the 
life  of  a  mariner,  and  ceased  running  over  the  world,  to 
seek  truth  within  myself.  I  have  invented  nothing,  but 
I  know  all  that  man  has  said  about  the  soul  and  the 
world,  and  if  you  wish  I  will  recite  from  memory  entire 
paragraphs  from  Socrates  and  Plato,  and  all  the  an- 
swers of  the  great  Diogenes.  I  know  your  country,  and 
I  am  ashamed  of  my  city  when  I  see  such  fools  as  those. 
Do  you  know  who  is  to  blame  for  these  follies  that  dis- 
honor us?  Sonnica,  that  Sonnica  whom  they  call  'the 
rich,'  an  old-time  courtesan  who  will  succeed  in  making 
Saguntum  a  reproach,  destroying  the  traditions  of  the 
city,  and  the  simple,  healthful  customs  of  other  times." 

On  hearing  the  name  of  Sonnica  a  murmur  of  protest 
arose  from  the  group. 

"Do  you  see?"  shouted  the  philosopher,  becoming 
more  abusive.  "  They  are  adulatory  slaves  who  tremble 
at  the  truth.  The  name  of  Sonnica  produces  in  them 
the  same  effect  as  that  of  a  goddess.  Do  you  see  that 
one  running  away?  Well,  not  long  ago  Sonnica  lent  his 
father  a  great  sum  without  interest,  that  he  might  buy 
wheat  in  Sicily,  and  so  he  thinks  he  must  run  away  from 
any  place  where  things  are  said  against  her.  See  that 
one  turning  his  back?  The  courtesan  freed  his  father, 
who  was  a  slave,  and  he  does  not  wish  to  hear  anything 
said  that  might  annoy  Sonnica.  And  these  others,  who 
are  more  valiant,  and  remain  staring  as  if  they  would 
devour  me,  have  all  received  favors  from  her,  and  would 
like  to  beat  me  for  my  words  as  they  have  done  before. 
They  are  slaves  who  defend  her  as  if  she  were  a  benefi- 
cent divinity.  There  are  many  others  like  them  in  Sag- 
untum, and  that  is  why  the  magistrates  dare  not  punish 


SAGUNTUM  71 

that  Grecian  woman,  who  with  her  mad  extravagances 
scandalizes  the  city.  Come,  beat  me,  shopkeepers !  Beat 
the  only  one  in  Saguntum  who  does  not  lie !" 

The  crowd  slunk  away,  leaving  the  philosopher  shak- 
ing his  fist  and  hurling  epithets  of  indignation. 

"  What  you  ought  to  do,"  said  one  of  the  latter  scorn- 
fully as  he  retired,  "  is  to  show  more  gratitude.  If  you 
ever  get  anything  to  eat,  it  is  at  Sonnica's  table." 

"  I  shall  eat  to-night,  then !"  shouted  the  philosopher 
insolently.  "  And  what  do  you  prove  by  that  ?  I  will 
tell  her  to  her  face  the  same  that  I  say  here!  And  she 
will  laugh  as  usual,  while  you  will  be  eating  swill  in 
your  houses  and  thinking  of  her  banquet  1" 

"  Ingrate !  Parasite !"  exclaimed  the  man,  turning 
his  back  contemptuously. 

"  Gratitude  is  the  condition  of  the  dog.  Man  shows 
his  superiority  by  speaking  ill  of  those  who  favor  him. 
If  you  do  not  wish  Euphobias  the  philosopher  to  be  a 
parasite,  maintain  him  in  exchange  for  his  wisdom." 

By  this  time  Euphobias  was  talking  to  empty  space. 
They  had  all  left,  and  had  mingled  with  the  moving 
crowd  on  the  street.  Only  Actaeon  remained,  examining 
him  with  interest,  as  if  marveling  at  finding  in  a  far- 
away city  a  man  so  like  those  who  in  Athens  swarmed 
about  the  Academy,  forming  a  class  of  hungry  and  ob- 
scure philosophic  plebs. 

The  parasite,  seeing  himself  with  no  other  audience 
than  the  Greek,  caught  him  by  the  arm. 

"  You  alone  deserve  to  hear  me.  One  can  easily  per- 
ceive that  you  are  from  there,  and  that  you  know  how  to 
distinguish  merit." 

"  Who  is  that  Sonnica  whose  customs  so  anger  you  ? 


72  S6NNICA 

Do  you  know  the  story  of  her  life?"  asked  the 
Athenian,  desirous  of  hearing  the  history  of  a  woman 
who  seemed  to  fill  the  whole  city  with  her  name. 

"  Do  I  know  it?  A  thousand  times  she  has  told  me 
in  her  hours  of  melancholy  and  weariness,  which  out- 
number all  the  rest.  When  I  cannot  manage  to  make 
her  laugh  with  my  wit,  when  she  feels  the  need  of  un- 
burdening her  mind,  then  she  tells  of  her  past  with  as 
much  abandon  as  though  she  were  talking  to  a  dog;  but 
it  is  a  long  story." 

The  philosopher  paused  and  winked  one  eye,  point- 
ing to  a  door  near  at  hand,  within  which  was  a  per- 
forated counter  holding  a  row  of  amphorae. 

"  We  shall  be  more  comfortable  in  Fulvius'  house.  He 
is  a  most  honorable  Roman  who  swears  that  he  has 
quarreled  with  water.  Day  before  yesterday  he  re- 
ceived a  famous  wine  from  Laurona.  I  smell  its  perfume 
even  here."  » 

"  I  have  not  a  single  obolus  in  my  pouch." 

The  philosopher  sniffed  as  if  inhaling  the  vapor  of 
the  new  wine,  and  made  a  gesture  of  disappointment. 
Then  he  looked  at  the  Greek  affectionately. 

"  You  are  worthy  to  hear  me;  poor,  like  myself,  sur- 
rounded by  these  merchants  who  stock  their  vaults  with 
silver!  Since  there  is  to  be  no  wine  for  us,  let  us  take 
a  walk.  That  clears  the  brain.  I  will  treat  you  as  Aris- 
totle treated  his  favorite  pupils." 

Strolling  along  the  portico  Euphobias  began  to  re- 
late what  he  knew  of  Sonnica's  life. 

She  was  believed  to  have  been  born  in  Cyprus,  the 
isle  beloved  of  mariners.  On  those  shores  where  the 
poets  made  the  triumphant  beauty  of  Aphrodite  spring 


SAGUNTUM  73 

from  the  foam,  the  women  of  the  island  run  by  night  in 
search  of  mariners  to  offer  themselves  in  memory  of 
the  goddess.  Sonnica  was  the  fruit  of  one  such 
alligation  with  a  rower.  She  vaguely  recollected  the 
early  years  of  her  childhood,  running  about  the  deck  of 
a  ship,  springing  from  one  bank  of  rowers  to  another, 
fed  and  scorned  like  the  cats  on  shipboard,  visiting  many 
ports  populated  by  people  diverse  in  dress,  customs, 
and  language,  but  seeing  it  all  from  afar,  and  vaguely, 
like  images  in  a  dream,  never  setting  foot  on  terra  finna. 

Before  she  became  a  woman  she  was  the  mistress  of 
the  owner  of  the  ship,  a  pilot  from  Samos,  who,  grown 
tired  of  her,  or  tempted  by  money,  sold  her  one  night  to 
a  Boeotian  who  maintained  a  dicterion  in  the  Piraeus. 
She  was  not  yet  twelve  years  of  age,  and  little  Sonnica 
attracted  special  attention  among  the  dicteriadai  who 
swarmed  by  night  in  the  Piraeus,  the  chief  centre  of 
Athenian  prostitution. 

The  floating  population  of  the  city,  composed  of  for- 
eigners, gamblers,  and  young  men  thrown  out  of  their 
homes  by  severe  fathers,  congregated  in  that  suburb 
of  Athens  which  surrounded  the  ports  of  the  Piraeus  and 
Phalerum  and  formed  the  deme  of  Estiron.  No  sooner 
had  night  closed  in  than  the  whole  noisy  and  corrupt 
world  gathered  in  the  great  square  in  the  Piraeus,  be- 
tween the  citadel  and  the  port,  and  prostitutes  began  to 
circulate,  who  with  the  coming  of  the  shadows,  were 
privileged  to  leave  the  dicteria  in  which  they  had  been 
confined.  On  the  porticos  around  the  square  the  gam- 
blers shook  dice,  wandering  philosophers  argued,  vaga- 
bonds slept,  mariners  told  of  their  voyages,  and  through 
this  confusion  of  diverse  peoples  passed  the  dicteriadai, 


74  S6NNICA 

with  painted  faces,  almost  nude,  or  wearing  striped  man- 
tles of  vivid  colors  which  revealed  an  African  or  Asia- 
tic origin.  There  the  young  daughter  of  Cyprus  grew  up 
and  became  acquainted  with  the  world,  seeking  each 
night  some  wheat  merchant  from  Bithynia,  or  some  ex- 
porter of  lu'des  from  Magha  Graecia,  rude  and  merry  peo- 
ple, who,  before  returning  to  their  native  lands  wished  to 
spend  some  of  their  earnings  on  the  courtesans  of  Athens. 
By  day  she  was  a  prisoner  in  the  dicterion,  a  house  of 
sordid  aspect,  without  other  ornamentation  on  the  facade 
than  an  enormous  phallus  which  served  the  establish- 
ment as  a  sign,  the  door  standing  open  at  all  hours  with- 
out the  chained  dog  customary  at  other  dwellings,  and 
displaying,  immediately  the  heavy  curtain  was  raised, 
an  open  courtyard,  in  which,  near  the  entrance  to  the 
rooms,  squatting  or  lying  on  the  pavement,  were  all  the 
wares  of  the  house,  women  worn  and  consumed  by  the 
fires  of  concupiscence  and  girls  barely  arrived  at  puber- 
ty. All  were  nude,  the  dark  and  velvety  skin  of  the 
Egyptians  contrasting  with  the  pale  countenance  of 
the  Greeks  and  the  white  and  silky  flesh  of  the 
Asiatics. 

Sonnica,  who  was  at  that  time  called  Myrrhina,  wear- 
ied of  the  life  of  the  dicterion.  All  the  women  there 
were  slaves  whom  the  Boeotian  beat  when  they  allowed 
a  customer  to  leave  discontented.  It  disgusted  her  to 
take  the  two  oboli  stipulated  by  the  laws  of  Solon  from 
those  calloused  hands  which  wounded  as  they  caressed, 
and  she  was  nauseated  by  the  dirty,  brutal  people  from 
all  the  countries  in  the  world  who  came  in  search  of 
pleasure,  and  went  away  surfeited,  being  immediately 
replaced  by  another  and  another,  like  an  incessant  surg- 


SAGUNTUM  75 

ing  of  desires  excited  by  the  solitude  of  the  sea,  repeat- 
ing similar  caprices  and  identical  demands. 

One  night  she  visited  for  the  last  time  the  temple  of 
Venus  Pandemos  raised  by  Solon  in  the  great  square  of 
the  Piraeus,  and  deposited  an  obolus  as  her  final  offering 
before  the  statues  of  Venus  and  her  companion  Peitho, 
the  two  divinities  of  the  courtesans,  before  whom  she 
went  many  times  with  her  lemans  of  the  moment,  before 
giving  herself  up  to  them  on  the  seashore  or  near  the 
long  wall  constructed  by  Themistocles  to  unite  the 
port  with  Athens.  Then  she  fled  toward  the  city,  eager 
for  liberty  and  joy,  wishing  to  become  one  of  those 
Athenian  hetaerae  whose  luxury  and  beauty  she  had  ad- 
mired from  afar. 

She  lived  like  the  free,  poor  courtesans  whom  the 
Athenian  youths  called  "  she-wolves"  on  account  of  their 
howling.  At  first  she  spent  whole  days  without  eating, 
but  she  considered  herself  more  happy  than  her  former 
companions  of  the  port  of  Phalerum,  or  in  the  district 
of  Estiron,  slaves  of  the  masters  of  the  dicteria.  Her 
market  now  was  the  Cerameicus,  a  large  district  of 
Athens,  along  the  wall  between  the  gates  of  the  Cera- 
meicus and  the  Dipylon,  in  which  were  the  garden  of 
the  Academy  and  the  tombs  of  the  illustrious  citizens 
who  had  died  for  the  Republic.  By  day  the  great  hetcerce 
went  or  sent  their  slaves  to  see  if  their  names  were 
written  in  charcoal  on  the  wall  of  the  Cerameicus.  The 
Athenian  who  desired  a  courtesan  would  write  her  name, 
with  the  sum  offered,  and  if  this  were  to  the  liking  of 
the  hetaera  she  tarried  near  the  inscription  until  the  com- 
ing of  the  favored  proponent.  In  broad  daylight 
the  great  courtesans  appeared  there,  almost  nude,  wear- 


76  SoNNICA 

ing  purple  sandals,  wrapped  in  flowered  mantles,  wear- 
ing crowns  of  fresh  roses  on  their  hair,  powdered  with 
gold.  The  poets,  the  rhetoricians,  the  artists,  the  dis- 
tinguished citizens  strolled  through  the  green  groves  of 
the  Cerameicus  or  along  the  porticos  adorned  with 
statues,  chatting  with  the  courtesans,  having  to  rack  their 
brains  to  keep  even  with  their  repartee. 

When  night  came  on  an  irruption  of  wretched,  ragged 
women  filled  the  promenade,  dispersing  among  the  tombs 
of  the  renowned  dead.  It  consisted  of  the  dregs  of 
Athenian  gayety  which  lived  in  liberty  under  cover  of 
the  darkness — old  courtesans  who,  trusting  in  the  night, 
came  out  to  conquer  bread  in  the  same  place  where  in 
other  times  they  had  reigned  with  the  power  of  beauty; 
fugitive  dicteriadai,  slave  women  who  had  run  away 
from  their  owners  for  a  few  hours>  and  women  of  the 
plebs  seeking  alleviation  of  their  poverty.  Hiding  be- 
hind the  tombs,  among  the  clumps  of  laurels,  they  re- 
mained as  motionless  as  sphinxes,  and  scarcely  did  the 
steps  of  a  man  disturb  the  silence  of  the  Cerameicus, 
than  from  all  sides  arose  faint  howls  calling  to  the  new 
arrival.  Frequently  they  fled  in  mad  race  on  recogni- 
zing the  official  whose  duty  it  was  to  collect  the  porni- 
kontelos,  a  tax  imposed  by  Solon  upon  the  courtesans 
and  one  which  constituted  the  largest  revenue  of  Athens. 
At  midnight  the  passer-by  crossing  the  Cerameicus  on 
his  return  from  a  banquet,  would  hear  around  him  the 
rustle  and  whispering  of  an  invisible  world  which  seemed 
to  sweep  over  the  turf  and  the  gleaming  sand.  The 
poets  jestingly  averred  that  the  ghosts  of  the  great 
departed  were  groaning  in  their  capacious  tombs. 

Thus  Myrrhina  lived  until  she  was  fifteen,  spending 


SAGUNTUM  77 

the  night  in  the  Cerameicus  and  the  day  in  the  hut  of 
an  old  woman  of  Thessaly  who,  in  common  with  all 
her  countrywomen  enjoyed  great  fame  as  a  witch, 
and  assisted  at  births  as  well  as  sold  love-philters,  and 
retouched  the  faces  of  those  who  were  fading. 

Innumerable  things  the  little  lupa  learned  at  the  side 
of  the  old  woman,  bony  and  ugly  as  a  Parca !  She  helped 
her  grind  the  white  lead  which,  mixed  with  isinglass, 
filled  the  wrinkles  of  the  face;  she  prepared  the  bean 
flour  to  anoint  the  breasts  and  abdomen,  to  make  the 
skin  tight  and  elastic;  she  filled  little  flasks  with  anti- 
mony to  give  brilliancy  to  the  eyes;  she  made  a  liquid 
preparation  of  carmine  for  coloring  with  light  touches 
the  paste-filled  wrinkles,  and  she  listened  with  profound 
attention  to  the  wise  counsels  with  which  the  old  woman 
instructed  her  pupils,  so  that  they  might  show  off  their 
particular  charms  to  the  best  advantage  and  hide  their 
defects.  The  old  Thessalian  advised  the  girls  with 
plump  bodies  to  use  cork  soles  inside  their  shoes,  and 
the  tall  ones  to  wear  light  sandals,  and  to  shrink  their 
heads  down  between  their  shoulders ;  she  made  pads  for 
the  thin,  whalebone  corsets  for  the  stout,  she  stained 
the  gray  hair  with  soot,  and  those  who  had  good  teeth 
she  obliged  to  carry  a  stalk  of  myrtle  between  their 
lips,  counseling  them  to  smile  at  the  slightest  word 

The  young  girl  possessed  the  old  witch's  confidence 
to  such  an  extent  that  she  assisted  her  in  the  most  dan- 
gerous part  of  her  science,  the  confection  of  love-philters 
and  the  making  of  charms,  which  had  more  than  once 
caused  her  to  be  prosecuted  by  the  officials  of  the  Areop- 
agus. The  richest  hetaerae  consulted  her  about  their 
desires  and  revenges,  and  she  gave  them  the  benefit  of 


78  SONNICA 

her  knowledge.  To  accomplish  the  impotence  of  a  man 
or  the  sterility  of  a  woman,  it  was  only  necessary  to 
give  them  a  glass  of  wine  in  which  a  barbel  had  been 
stewed ;  to  attract  a  forgetful  lover  a  cake  of  unleavened 
dough  was  burned  in  a  fire  made  of  branches  of  thyme 
and  laurel;  and  to  convert  love  into  hatred  it  was  only 
necessary  to  follow  the  man,  stepping  in  his  tracks  the 
opposite  way,  placing  the  right  foot  where  he  had  put  his 
left,  and  murmuring  at  the  same  time:  "  I  am  upon  you, 
I  step  on  you."  If  one  wished  to  cause  a  satiated  lover 
to  return,  the  old  woman  rolled  a  bronze  ball  which  she 
carried  in  her  bosom,  asking  Venus  to  cause  the  lover 
to  roll  in  over  the  threshold  of  the  door  in  the  same  man- 
ner, and  if  the  con  jury  produced  no  effect,  the  wax  image 
of  the  person  beloved  was  thrown  into  the  brazier  while 
asking  the  gods  to  melt  the  frozen  heart  with  love  even 
as  the  figure  melted.  With  these  enchantments,  accom- 
panied by  mysterious  invocations,  went  philters  composed 
of  aphrodisiacs  and  exciting  herbs,  which  frequently  led 
to  death. 

One  moonlight  spring  night  Myrrhina  had  an  ad- 
venture in  the  Cerameicus,  which  resulted  in  her  abandon- 
ing the  den  of  the  Thessalian.  Seated  behind  a  tomb, 
her  howl  soft  as  a  lament  attracted  a  man  wrapped  in  a 
white  mantle.  By  the  brilliancy  of  his  eyes  and  the 
insecurity  of  his  step  he  seemed  to  be  intoxicated.  He 
wore  on  his  head  a  crown  of  withered  roses. 

Myrrhina  divined  that  he  was  a  distinguished  citizen 
coming  from  a  banquet.  It  was  the  poet  Simalion,  a 
young  aristocrat  who  had  won  a  crown  in  the  Olympian 
games,  and  in  whom  Athens  saw  revived  the  inspira- 
tion of  Anacreon.  The  richest  hetaerae  sang  his  verse* 


SAGUNTUM  79 

at  banquets  to  the  music  of  the  lyre,  and  virtuous  dames 
murmured  them  in  the  solitude  of  the  gynaeceum,  flush- 
ing with  emotion.  The  most  famous  beauties  of  Athens 
contended  for  the  poet,  and  he,  already  an  invalid  in 
his  young  manhood,  and  unable  to  resist  the  strain  of 
worldly  adoration,  took  refuge  in  the  temple  of  _33scula- 
pius  when  the  cough  compelled  him  to  spit  blood;  he 
went  on  a  pilgrimage  to  the  healing  springs  throughout 
Greece  and  the  islands;  and  no  sooner  did  he  begin  to 
feel  stronger,  with  new  blood  surging  through  his  veins, 
than,  scorning  the  doctors,  he  began  once  more  the 
round  of  banqueting  with  business  men  and  artists  of 
Attica,  in  company  with  famous  hetaerae  and  genteel 
Cyprians,  rolling  from  the  arms  of  one  to  another;  pay- 
ing for  the  caresses  with  verses  which  the  city  afterward 
repeated;  ever  ardent,  and  consuming  his  life  like  the 
torch  which  at  the  nocturnal  feasts  of  Dionysus  was 
passed  by  the  chain  of  bacchantes  from  hand  to  hand 
until  lost  in  the  infinite. 

Coming  from  one  of  these  orgies  he  met  Myrrhina, 
and  contemplating  in  the  moonlight  her  youthful  beauty, 
undimmed  and  almost  childlike  there  in  a  place  frequent- 
ed by  the  filthy  lupas,  he  raised  his  hand  to  his  eyes  as 
if  he  feared  he  were  being  deceived  by  the  aberrations 
of  intoxication.  This  must  be  Psyche  with  those  firm,  har- 
moniously curving  breasts,  round  as  cups;  with  those 
correct  and  gentle  outlines  which  would  have  been  the 
despair  of  sculptors  at  the  Academy.  The  poet  experi- 
enced the  same  satisfaction  as  when,  after  hours  of 
solitary  plodding  along  the  wall  of  Themistocles  from 
Athens  to  the  port,  he  hit  upon  the  culminating  verse  of 
an  ode. 


80  S6NNICA 

She  started  to  drag  him  to  the  old  Thessalian's  hut, 
but  Simalion,  dazzled  by  the  marble  flesh  which  seemed 
to  shine  through  the  rags,  took  her  to  his  beautiful  resi- 
dence on  the  Street  of  Tripods,  and  there  Myrrhina  re- 
mained like  a  lady,  with  slaves  and  luxurious  garments. 

This  caprice  of  the  poet  astounded  all  Athens.  In 
the  Agora  and  in  the  Cerameicus  they  talked  of  nothing 
but  Simalion's  new  love.  They  marveled  at  the  rescue 
of  a  precious  stone,  forgotten  and  lost  in  the  sands, 
which  suddenly  shone  forth  on  the  forehead  of  a  grandee. 

The  great  hetaerae,  who  had  never  succeeded  in  making 
complete  conquest  of  the  fickle  poet,  were  amazed  at 
seeing  him  devotedly  attached  to  a  young  girl  from  a 
dicterion,  who  was  remembered  by  many  adventurers  in 
the  Piraeus.  He  took  her  out  in  his  chariot,  driving  three 
horses  with  close-cropped  manes,  and  to  all  the  great 
feasts  in  the  temples  of  Attica;  in  the  morning  he  com- 
posed verses  in  her  honor,  and  he  awoke  her  by  reciting 
them,  while  he  flung  a  shower  of  rose  petals  upon  her 
couch.  He  gave  banquets  to  his  artist  friends  that  he 
might  revel  in  their  envy  and  admiration,  when,  at 
their  conclusion,  he  had  her  exhibit  herself  nude  upon 
the  table,  in  all  the  magnificence  of  that  perfect  beauty 
which  aroused  a  religious  emotion  in  the  Greeks. 

Faithful  to  Simalion  from  gratitude  at  first,  and 
finally  enamored  of  the  poet  and  of  his  works,  Myrrh- 
ina adored  him  as  teacher  as  well  as  lover.  In  a  short 
time  she  learned  to  play  the  lyre,  to  recite  verses  m  all 
the  known  styles,  she  read  in  her  lover's  library  so 
diligently  that  she  was  able  to  hold  her  own  among  the 
guests  at  the  banquets  of  artists,  and  was  invited  out 
among  the  most  brilliant  hetaerw  of  Athens. 


SAGUNTUM  81 

Simalion,  constantly  growing  more  enthusiastic  over 
his  beloved,  dissipated  his  fortune  and  his  life.  He 
ordered  for  her  from  Asia  transparent  mantles  em- 
broidered with  fantastic  flowers,  through  which  shone 
her  pearly  flesh;  gold  dust  to  sprinkle  upon  her  hair, 
making  her  like  the  goddesses,  which  the  poets  and 
artists  of  Greece  always  painted  blonde;  he  charged 
the  navigators  to  buy  roses  in  Egypt  of  marvelous 
freshness.  He  was  steadily  growing  more  emaciated, 
his  skin  more  pallid,  and  his  gaze  glowing  with  fever, 
coughing  and  lying  in  the  arms  of  his  mistress,  his 
strength  slipping  away. 

Thus  two  years  passed,  until  one  autumn  afternoon, 
stretched  on  the  lawn  in  his  garden,  his  head  resting 
on  the  knees  of  his  beautiful  inamorata,  he  heard  his 
verses  sung  for  the  last  time  by  the  clear  voice  of  Myrrh- 
ina,  accompanied  by  the  fluttering  of  her  white  fingers 
over  the  chords  of  the  lyre.  The  setting  sun  caused 
Minerva's  lance  aloft  by  the  Parthenon,  dominating 
the  city,  to  glow  like  a  coal  of  fire;  his  boyish  hand 
could  scarce  sustain  the  golden  cup  of  honey  and  vrine. 
He  made  an  effort  to  kiss  his  mistress;  the  roses  which 
crowned  him  fell  apart,  covering  Myrrhina's  breast 
with  a  shower  of  petals,  and,  uttering  a  plaint  like  that 
of  a  woman,  he  closed  his  eyes,  falling  upon  that  breast 
where  he  had  lavished  the  last  strength  of  his  life. 

The  young  girl  wept  for  him  with  the  desperation  of 
a  widow.  She  cut  her  splendid  hair  to  lay  it  as  an  of- 
fering upon  his  tomb.  She  put  aside  her  dazzling  cos- 
tumes, she  dressed  in  dark  wool  like  the  Athenian  women 
of  virtuous  homes,  and  remained  in  retirement  in  her 
house,  which  she  kept  closed  and  silent  as  a  gyneeceum. 


82  SONNICA 

The  necessity  of  living,  of  maintaining  the  luxury  to 
which  she  had  become  accustomed,  of  keeping  a  chariot 
and  slaves  and  grooms,  forced  her,  however,  to  consider 
her  beauty,  and  the  most  celebrated  hetaerae  became 
alarmed  at  the  new  rival.  Covered  with  a  dark  red  wig  to 
hide  the  tonsure  of  mourning,  wrapped  in  fine  veils  from 
which  her  throat  emerged  adorned  with  pearls,  her  fresh 
and  alabastrine  arms  loaded  to  the  shoulders  with  brace- 
lets, she  showed  herself  at  an  upper  window  of  her 
house  with  the  grave  majesty  of  a  goddess  awaiting 
veneration.  The  richest  men  of  Athens  paused  by  night 
in  the  Street  of  Tripods  to  gaze  at  the  poet's  widow, 
as  the  women  in  the  Cermaeicus  sarcastically  called 
her.  Some,  more  daring,  or  tremulous  with  desire,  raised 
the  index  finger  in  mute  question;  but  vainly  they  a- 
waited  her  affirmative  reply — the  customary  sigil  of  the 
hetaerae,  touching  thumb  to  index  finger  as  it  were  an 
annulus. 

Few  managed  to  gain  entrance  to  the  famous  courte- 
san's house.  They  grumbled  that  some  nights,  in  mo- 
ments of  tedium,  she  had  opened  her  door  to  yomag 
students  who  were  modeling  their  first  statues  in  the 
gardens  of  the  Academy,  or  reciting  their  unrenowned 
verses  to  the  idle  in  the  Agora — youths  who  could  only 
afford  to  spend  on  pleasures  a  few  oboli,  or  at  most  a 
drachma.  On  the  other  hand  the  rich,  who  offered 
golden  stateres  or  several  minae  to  enter  the  house,  were 
considered  too  poor  to  win  favor.  The  old  courtesans 
whispered  into  one  another's  ears,  with  a  degree  of  re- 
spect, that  a  petty  Asiatic  king,  on  passing  through 
Athens,  had  given  Myrrhina  two  talents  for  one  visit — 
as  much  as  any  republic  in  Greece  would  spend  in  a 


SAGUNTUM  88 

year — and  that  the  beautiful  hetaera,  unmoved  by  such 
a  fortune,  had  suffered  his  presence  only  while  her 
clepsydra  emptied  itself  once,  for,  tired  of  men,  she 
measured  prurience  by  her  water-clock. 

Fabulously  rich  merchants,  on  arriving  at  the  Piraeus, 
sought  access  to  Myrrhina's  house  through  the  good 
offices  of  friends.  They  heaped  presents  upon  the  vaga- 
bond artists  who  were  the  courtesan's  familiars,  that  they 
might  be  admitted  to  her  suppers;  and  more  than  one, 
arriving  at  the  port  with  a  fleet  loaded  with  rich  mer- 
chandise, hastened  to  sell  everything  without  waiting 
to  discharge  his  cargo,  so  that  he  might  stay  in  the 
poet's  house ;  and  he  returned  to  his  country  with  the  help 
of  charity,  content  with  his  poverty  when  he  saw  the 
envy  and  respect  which  he  inspired  among  his  com- 
panions. 

Thus  she  met  Bomaro,  a  young  Iberian  merchant  from 
Zacynthus,  who  had  come  to  Athens  with  three  ships 
laden  with  hides.  The  courtesan  was  attracted  by  his 
sweetness,  which  contrasted  with  the  rudeness  of  the 
other  merchants  brutalized  by  their  contact  with  the 
great  ports.  He  spoke  little  and  blushed,  as  if  the  si- 
lence of  his  long  stays  at  sea  had  given  him  the  timidity 
of  a  virgin.  If  she  forced  him  to  relate  his  adventures 
as  a  navigator  he  did  so  with  simplicity,  without  men- 
tioning the  dangers  he  encountered.  He  displayed  par- 
ticularly a  childish  admiration  for  Grecian  culture. 

Myrrhina,  during  the  supper  at  which  she  saw  him  for 
the  first  time,  surprised  his  eyes  fixed  on  her  with  the 
expression  of  tenderness  and  respect  of  one  gazing  at 
a  goddess  impossible  of  possession.  The  navigator, 
reared  among  barbarians,  in  a  remote  colony  scarcely 


84  S6NNICA 

retaining  traces  of  its  mother  Greece,  began  to  interest 
the  courtesan  more  than  the  young  Athenians  and  op- 
ulent merchants  who  surrounded  her.  Tremulous  and 
hesitant  he  craved  the  grace  of  a  single  night,  and  spent 
it  near  her  with  more  admiration  than  enjoyment,  ador- 
ing her  regal  beauty,  thrilled  by  her  voice,  put  to  sleep 
by  it  like  a  warm  maternal  lullaby,  accompanied  by  the 
lyre. 

When  he  awoke  he  begged  to  turn  over  to  her  the 
entire  product  of  his  cargo ;  but  Myrrhina,  hardly  know- 
ing why,  refused  to  accept  it,  in  spite  of  his  urging. 
He  was  rich ;  he  had  no  parents ;  far  away  in  that  land  of 
barbarians  he  possessed  immense  flocks,  hundreds  of 
slaves  who  cultivated  his  fields  or  worked  in  his  mines; 
great  potteries,  and  many  ships  like  the  three  which 
awaited  him  in  the  Piraeus ;  and  seeing  that  the  courtesan, 
with  kindly  smile,  treated  him  like  a  generous  boy,  de- 
clining to  accept  his  money,  he  bought  in  the  Street 
of  the  Goldsmiths  a  prodigious  collar  of  pearls,  the  des- 
pair of  the  hetaeree,  and  sent  it  to  Myrrhina  before  he 
left  the  city. 

Afterwards  he  came  back  many  times.  He  could  not 
decide  to  return  to  his  country.  He  set  sail  with  his 
flotilla,  but  in  the  next  port  he  took  on  a  cargo  for 
Athens,  paying  no  regard  to  the  price,  and  scarce- 
ly came  to  anchor  in  the  Piraeus  before  he  rushed  to 
the  courtesan's  house,  nor  could  resolve  to  leave  until  he 
suspected  Myrrhina's  weariness  of  his  presence. 

The  courtesan  finally  became  accustomed  to  this  sub- 
missive lover,  ever  at  her  feet,  who  was  ready  to  die 
for  her,  showing  his  adoration  with  the  fervor  of  a  for- 
eigner, so  different  from  the  cynical  and  mocking  court- 


SAGUNTUM  85 

esy  of  the  Athenians.  She  called  him  "little  brother," 
and  this  word,  which  the  hetaerse  used  with  young 
lovers,  gradually  took  on  her  lips  a  warmth  of  sincere 
affection.  When  he  was  delayed  in  returning  from  the 
islands  she  longed  for  his  presence,  and  when  she 
saw  him  at  the  door  she  ran  to  him  with  outstretched 
arms,  in  a  transport  of  joy  such  as  her  other  friends 
never  witnessed. 

She  did  not  love  him  as  she  had  loved  the  poet,  but 
the  earnest  humility  of  Bomaro,  his  respectful  and  docile 
love,  so  different  from  the  ardor  she  inspired  in  others, 
moved  Myrrhina  to  a  sentiment  of  gratitude. 

One  night,  the  Iberian,  who  seemed  preoccupied,  ven- 
tured after  much  vacillation  to  express  his  inner  thought. 

He  could  not  live  without  her;  he  would  never  return 
alone  to  Zacynthus;  he  was  resolved  to  abandon  his  for- 
tune rather  than  never  to  see  her  more.  He  would 
sooner  be  a  stevedore  on  the  wharf  at  Phalerum;  and 
finally,  like  one  who  makes  a  dash  to  more  quickly  over- 
come an  obstacle,  he  abruptly  proposed  to  make  her  his 
wife,  turning  his  fortune  over  to  her,  and  to  take  her  to 
smiling  Zacynthus  with  its  flowery  fields  and  its  rose- 
colored  mountains,  so  like  those  of  Attica. 

Myrrhina  smiled  while  listening  to  him  and  her  heart 
was  touched  by  the  affectionate  self-abnegation  of  the 
Iberian  who,  to  unite  with  her  forever,  was  willing  to 
overlook  a  shameful  past  in  the  dicterion  and  in  the 
Cerameicus.  She  rejected  his  proposals  with  an  ironical 
smile;  but  Bomaro  was  persistent.  Was  she  not  tired 
of  her  mode  of  life,  of  seeing  herself  flattered  as  a  thing 
of  great  price,  but  often  scorned  by  coarse  creatures  who 
thought  they  made  themselves  her  masters  by  merely  of- 


86  S6NNICA 

fering  their  gold?  Would  she  not  like  to  be  a  sovereign 
on  the  coasts  of  Iberia,  surrounded  by  people  who  would 
admire  her  Athenian  attainments? 

Bomaro  conquered  her  by.  his  loving  determination, 
and  one  day  Athens  beheld  with  surprise  that  the  house 
on  the  Street  of  Tripods  was  sold,  and  that  Myrrhina's 
slaves  were  carrying  to  the  port  the  riches  gathered 
during  three  years  of  mad  fortune,  loading  them  in 
the  ships  of  the  Iberian  who  had  unfurled  from  the 
masts  his  purple  sails  for  a  triumphal  voyage. 

Myrrhina,  in  her  desire  to  propitiate  him  who  gave 
himself  up  to  her  so  completely,  wished  to  leave  her 
whole  past  behind.  She  proposed  to  be  a  new  woman,  to 
put  away  her  sinister  cognomen,  and  begging  Bomaro  to 
repeat  the  most  beautiful  names  of  the  Iberian  women, 
she  chose  that  of  Sonnica  as  the  most  pleasing  to  her 
ears. 

Arrived  at  Zacynthus,  the  navigator  and  the  Greek 
woman  were  married  in  the  temple  of  Diana  before  all 
the  Senate,  of  which  the  young  man  was  himself  a 
member. 

The  city  felt  the  effects  of  the  charm  which  seemed  to 
emanate  from  the  person  of  Sonnica.  She  was  like  a 
breath  from  distant  Athens,  which  fascinated  the  Greek 
merchants  in  Saguntum,  grown  slack  by  their  long  stay 
among  uncultured  foreigners. 

At  the  banquets,  at  the  hour  of  sweet  wines,  when 
she  sang  the  hymns  of  the  great  masters,  the  Saguntine 
youths  from  the  ward  of  the  Greeks  were  impelled  to 
fall  at  her  feet  and  adore  her  as  a  goddess.  After  being 
married  a  year  Bomaro  realized  in  the  growth  of  his 
fortune  the  assistance  of  the  woman,  who,  in  changing 


SAGUNTUM  87 

her  environment,  began  to  interest  herself  in  material 
things  through  her  desire  to  prove  her  worth  before  the 
noble  dames  who  gossipped  about  her. 

She  watched  the  work  in  the  fields,  took  note  of  the 
great  flocks,  and  the  potteries;  she  went  to  the  port 
to  greet  the  arrival  of  the  ships ;  and  Bomaro's  enormous 
fortune  increased.  Excellent  results  followed  the  busi- 
ness ventures  which  she  counseled,  as  she  lay  in  the 
shade  of  a  clump  of  laurel  in  her  garden,  speaking  in 
a  slow  harmonious  voice,  caressed  by  a  feather  fan  in 
the  hands  of  a  slave. 

Bomaro,  the  days  of  more  ardent  love-making  ended, 
sailed  along  the  coasts  of  Iberia,  his  mind  free  from 
business  cares,  and  desirous  of  adding  to  the  fortune 
which  Sonnica  administered  so  well.  She  had  sur- 
rounded herself  by  a  court  of  youths  who  treated  her  as 
a  preceptress.  The  young  Greeks  born  in  Saguntum 
flocked  about  her  to  learn  the  manners  and  customs  of 
Athens,  which  was  their  perpetual  dream.  The  evil 
tongues  in  the  city  called  her  Sonnica  the  Cyprian,  but 
the  plebs  who  were  the  recipients  of  her  charity,  and 
the  small  merchants  who  never  appealed  to  her  without 
result,  entitled  her  Sonnica  the  rich,  and  they  were 
ready  to  fight  those  who  spoke  ill  of  her. 

One  winter,  four  years  after  their  marriage,  Bomaro 
perished  by  shipwreck  near  the  Pillars  of  Hercules,  and 
Sonnica  found  herself  in  absolute  possession  of  an  im- 
mense fortune,  and  mistress  of  a  whole  city,  over  which 
she  reigned  by  virtue  of  her  riches  and  of  her  kind- 
ness of  heart.  She  freed  slaves  in  memory  of  the  un- 
fortunate navigator,  she  sent  costly  offerings  to  all  the 
temples  in  Saguntum,  she  raised  on  the  Acropolis  a 


88  S6NNICA 

cenotaph  in  memory  of  Bomaro,  summoning  marble- 
workers  from  Athens  for  this  purpose.  By  her  chari- 
ties she  won  consideration,  bringing  this  city  of  sturdy 
and  austere  customs  to  tolerate  her  bright,  mirth-loving 
existence,  which  was  a  perpetuation  of  Athenian  man- 
ners in  the  midst  of  Iberic  sobriety. 

Having  passed  the  period  of  mourning,  she  gave  sup- 
pers in  her  country-house  which  lasted  until  dawn.  She 
brought  famous  auletai  from  Attica  who  set  the  Saguntine 
youths  wild  with  their  flutes.  She  sent  ships  on  voy- 
ages with  no  other  commercial  object  than  to  bring  rare 
perfumes  from  Asia,  fabrics  from  Egypt,  and  unique 
adornments  from  Carthage;  and  her  fame  extended  so 
far  into  the  interior  that  kinglets  from  Celtiberia  were 
drawn  to  Saguntum  to  behold  that  wonderful  woman, 
as  wise  as  a  priestess,  and  as  beautiful  as  a  divinity. 
The  Greeks  admired  her,  observing  that  she  strength- 
ened the  prestige  of  their  race  among  the  primitive 
Saguntines,  who  were  lavish  with  eulogy  of  her  disin- 
terestedness. Thus  she  lived!  No  women  entered  her 
house,  none  but  flute-players,  dancers,  and  slaves;  she 
was  surrounded  by  men  who  yearned  for  her,  but  she 
held  herself  aloof,  and  treated  them  all  with  a  masculine 
but  distant  intimacy.  She  was  ever  thinking  of  Athens 
the  luminous,  the  city  which  held  so  many  memories,  and 
many  of  whose  customs  she  sought  to  revive. 

Euphobias  the  philosopher,  as  he  reached  this  point 
in  his  story,  stoutly  declared  that  Sonnica's  life  in  Sagun- 
tum was  above  reproach,  in  spite  of  what  the  Greek 
women  of  the  district  of  the  merchants  said.  He  himself, 
who  possessed  the  bitterest  tongue  in  the  city,  affirmed 
it.  Several  times  she  had  been  attracted  toward  some 


SAGUNTUM  89 

guest  at  her  dinners.  Alorcus,  the  scion  of  a  petty  king 
of  Celtiberia,  who  lived  in  Saguntura  and  frequented  her 
house,  had  made  an  impression  upon  her  with  his  wild, 
virile  beauty,  as  a  son  of  the  mountains;  but  Sonnica 
held  him  back,  plainly  fearing  to  take  the  step  and 
unite  herself  with  one  of  a  barbarous  race.  The  mem- 
ory of  Attica  wholly  occupied  her  imagination.  If  some 
young  Athenian  had  landed  on  those  shores,  some  youth 
as  beautiful  as  Alcibiades,  singing  verses,  modeling 
statues,  and  displaying  skill  and  dexterity  as  in  the 
Olympian  games,  perhaps  she  might  have  fallen  into 
his  arms,  but  her  emotions  were  unstirred  among  the 
arrogant  Celtiberians  who  came  to  her  feasts  smelling 
of  horses  and  with  their  swords  girded  at  their  sides, 
and  among  the  effeminate  sons  of  merchants,  becurled, 
and  shedding  perfumes,  caressing  their  small  slave  boys, 
who  accompanied  them  even  in  the  bath. 

"  Athenian,"  continued  the  philosopher,  "  you  should 
present  yourself  to  Sonnica.  She  will  receive  you  kindly. 
You  are  not  an  ephebus,"  he  added,  with  a  mocking  smile; 
"  your  beard  is  turning  gray,  but  you  have  in  your  figure 
the  arrogance  of  a  king  in  the  Iliad;  upon  your  forehead 
something  of  the  majesty  of  Socrates;  and  who  knows 
but  that  you  may  fall  heir  to  Bomaro's  riches !  If  that 
should  come  to  pass,  do  not  forget  the  poor  philosopher. 
I  will  be  content  with  a  skin  of  wine  from  Laurona,  since 
to-day  you  condemn  me  to  thirst." 

Euphobias  laughed,  slapping  Actaeon  on  the  shoulder. 

"  I  am  invited  to  Sonnica's  banquet  to-night,"  said 
the  Greek. 

"  You,  also  ?  Then  we  shall  meet  there.  I  am  not 
invited,  but  I  go  with  the  same  right  as  a  dog  belonging 
to  the  house." 


90  S6NNICA 

The  philosopher  saw  Alcon,  the  peaceful  citizen,  who 
had  just  come  down  from  the  Acropolis,  pass  through 
the  centre  of  the  Forum. 

"  There  is  one  of  the  few  good  men  of  this  city.  He 
extols  virtue  to  me,  he  counsels  me  to  go  to  work,  and 
to  forget  philosophy,  and  on  top  of  all  that  he  never 
fails  to  give  me  something  to  drink ;  so  farewell  until  to- 
night, stranger." 

He  hurried  toward  Alcon  who,  leaning  on  his  staff, 
greeted  him  with  a  kindly  smile. 

Actaeon,  finding  himself  once  more  alone  wandered 
through  the  centre  of  the  market.  Suddenly  he  heard 
a  youthful  voice  calling  him.  It  was  Rhanto,  sitting  on 
the  ground  among  the  pitchers  which  were  now  empty  of 
milk,  selling  her  last  cheeses.  Near  her  squatted  the 
young  potter.  They  were  eating  a  hard  cake  with 
fresh,  juicy  onions,  playfully  disputing  the  mouthfuls 
amid  merry  laughter.  The  shepherdess  offered  Actaeon 
a  round  cake,  and  the  Greek  accepted  gratefully.  He 
seemed  destined  to  receive  his  food  in  Saguntum  from 
feminine  hands.  Twice  since  he  landed  he  had  been 
succored  by  women. 

Seated  between  the  young  people  he  saw  the  market 
gradually  become  deserted.  The  shepherds  drove  their 
flocks  toward  the  Gate  of  the  Sea;  the  Celtiberian 
chiefs,  bearing  their  women  behind  them  on  their  horses, 
rode  off  at  a  gallop,  eager  to  reach  their  villages  in  the 
mountains;  and  the  empty  carts  rumbled  slowly  toward 
the  hamlets  and  towers  in  the  Saguntine  domain. 

Again  Actaeon  saw  the  Celtiberian  shepherd  in  the 
colonnades,  moving  from  one  group  of  rustics  to  another, 
listening  to  their  conversation.  As  he  passed  near  the 


SAGUNTUM  91 

Greek  he  gazed  at  him  with  those  enigmatic  eyes  which 
awoke  within  him  shadowy  recollections. 

All  at  once  the  young  potter  arose  and  started  to  run, 
hiding  behind  the  columns  around  the  Forum. 

"  He  has  seen  his  father,"  said  Rhanto  quietly.  "  There 
is  Mopsus  coming  down  from  the  Acropolis." 

Actaeon  advanced  to  meet  the  archer. 

"  My  word  has  been  sufficient  to  have  you  received 
by  the  Senate.  The  city  will  soon  need  good  soldiers 
like  yourself.  The  elders  seemed  somewhat  alarmed 
this  morning.  They  fear  Hannibal,  that  young  cub  of 
Hamilcar,  who  now  leads  the  Carthaginians,  and  who  will 
not  calmly  brook  our  friendship  with  the  Romans  and 
the  execution  of  his  sympathizers  in  Saguntum.  Here, 
take  this;  it  is  the  advance  pay  which  the  Republic  al- 
lows you." 

He  tendered  Actaeon  a  handful  of  coins,  which  the 
Greek  put  into  his  pouch.  Mopsus  then  invited  him  to 
his  house  to  meet  his  sons  and  to  dine;  but  the  Athenian 
was  obliged  to  plead  his  previous  invitation  to  Sonnica's 
banquet. 

When  the  archer  had  left,  Actseon  felt  the  torment 
of  thirst,  and,  remembering  the  philosopher's  recom- 
mendations, he  entered  the  establishment  of  the  Roman 
whose  Lauronian  wine  inspired  so  much  enthusiasm 
in  Euphobias.  At  the  counter  he  changed  a  victoriatus, 
and  was  given  a  boat-shaped  terra  cotta  patera  full  of 
black  wine  crowned  with  iridescent  bubbles.  Two  sol- 
diers were  drinking  in  a  corner  of  the  tavern — two 
rough  mercenaries  with  the  faces  of  bandits.  One  was 
an  Iberian,  the  other  with  bronzed  skin  and  athletic 
frame  looked  like  a  Libyan,  and  his  cheeks,  calloused  by 


92  SoNNICA 

the  helmet,  and  his  neck  and  arms  furrowed  with  cica- 
trices, denoted  the  professional  paid  warrior  who  had 
fought  with  indifference  since  childhood,  now  in  the  ser- 
vice of  one  nation  and  now  in  that  of  its  adversary. 

"  I  am  in  the  service  of  Saguntum,"  said  the  Libyan. 
"  These  merchants  pay  better  than  those  of  Carthage. 
But,  believe  me,  although  content  to  live  in  this  town, 
I  realize  that  they  have  done  an  unlucky  thing  in  dis- 
pleasing Hannibal.  Rome  is  strong,  but  Rome  is  far 
away,  and  that  lion's  whelp  prowls  only  a  few  days' 
journey  from  here.  You  ought  to  have  known  him,  to 
have  seen  him  from  boyhood  as  I  have  done  when  I  was 
fighting  under  the  orders  of  his  father  Hamilcar !  He 
runs  like  a  mare;  he  fights  as  well  on  foot  as  on  horse- 
back, he  eats  what  there  is  to  be  had,  or  he  eats  nothing 
at  all;  he  goes  about  dressed  like  a  slave;  arms  are  his 
only  luxury;  he  sleeps  on  the  ground,  and  often,  at  day- 
break, his  father  would  find  him  lying  among  the  senti- 
nels of  the  camp.  He  is  not  content  to  be  told  about 
things,  he  must  see  everything  with  his  own  eyes,  and 
mix  with  the  enemy  to  study  their  weak  points  close  at 
hand.  Often  Hasdrubal,  his  sister's  husband,  was  sur- 
prised by  seeing  an  old  beggar  come  into  his  shop,  and 
he  would  shout  with  laughter  when  Hannibal  pulled  off 
his  wig  and  his  rags,  under  cover  of  which  he  had  been 
spending  hours  among  the  enemy." 

Actaeon  left  the  tavern  hastily  on  seeing  that  Rhanto, 
after  handing  her  pitchers  to  a  slave  who  loaded  them 
into  a  cart,  was  starting  on  her  walk  toward  Sonnica's 
villa. 

"  I  will  go  with  you,  little  one.  You  shall  be  my  guide 
to  vour  mistress'  house." 


SAGUNTUM  93 

The  sun  had  begun  to  set.  The  afternoon  light  gilded 
the  foliage  of  the  domain,  giving  a  transparency  of  amber 
to  the  leaves  and  vines.  Along  the  highway  through  the 
champaign  sounded  the  bells  of  the  flock,  the  creaking 
of  carts,  and  the  sonorous  songs  of  the  rustics  returning 
from  the  city. 

They  arrived  at  Sonnica's  villa,  which  had  the  as- 
pect of  a  town.  They  first  passed  the  dwellings  of  the 
slaves,  where  buzzed  around  the  doorways  a  swarm  of 
nude  children  with  prominent  abdomens,  and  with  the 
umbilicus  protruding  like  buttons ;  then  the  stables,  from 
which  floated  a  warm  vapor  vibrant  with  lowing  and 
whinnying;  the  granaries  and  farmhouses;  the  dwelling 
of  the  overseer;  the  calabooses  for  rebellious  slaves,  with 
their  breathing-holes  on  a  level  with  the  ground;  the 
pigeon-house,  a  high  tower  of  red  brick  around  which 
fluttered  a  cloud  of  white  wings  amid  incessant  cooing; 
the  big  straw  huts  which  served  to  shelter  the  hundreds 
of  chickens;  and,  behind  this  row  of  buildings,  the 
country-seat,  Sonnica's  villa,  which  was  discussed  with 
admiration  even  among  the  most  remote  tribes  of  Celti- 
beria.  It  was  surrounded  by  cypresses  and  laurels,  en- 
circled by  walls  covered  with  gnarled  grape  vines,  while 
rising  above  the  great  mass  of  foliage  were  its  rose- 
colored  walls  with  columns  and  friezes  of  blue  marble 
and  the  terrace  crowned  by  polychrome  statues  with 
enameled  eyes  shining  in  the  sun  like  precious  stones. 

Actason  was  silent  and  preoccupied.  Rhanto  had  been 
talking  to  him  for  full  half  an  hour  without  receiving  a 
reply. 

"  Look,  stranger !  All  those  fields  which  your  eye 
can  see  belong  to  Sonnica.  See,  Greek,  how  many  chick- 


94)  SONNICA 

ens!  Nearly  all  the  eggs  used  in  the  city  come  from 
here." 

Actaeon  continued  oblivious  to  the  objects  pointed  out 
by  the  shepherdess;  but  just  as  she  rang  the  bell  on  the 
garden  gate,  and  was  answered  from  within  by  the  bark- 
ing of  dogs  and  the  sharp  cries  of  hidden  birds,  he  smote 
himself  nervously  on  the  forehead  as  if  he  had  made  a 
discovery. 

"  Now  I  know  who  he  is !"  he  exclaimed,  as  if  awaking 
from  a  dream. 

"Who?"  asked  the  young  girl  in  surprise. 

"  Nobody,"  he  replied  with  the  frigidity  of  him  who 
fears  that  he  has  said  too  much. 

In  his  own  mind,  however,  he  was  satisfied  with  the 
identification.  Recalling  the  words  of  the  Libyan  mer- 
cenary, overheard  in  the  tavern,  had  brought  back  to  his 
memory  that  enigmatic  figure  of  the  Celtiberian  shep- 
herd. Suddenly  a  light  was  kindled  in  his  thought. 

Now  he  knew  who  it  was !  For  a  good  reason  had  he 
been  impressed  from  the  first  moment  by  the  glance  of 
that  unknown  man,  by  the  eyes  which  never  change  in 
a  countenance  despite  the  passing  of  years.  Often  had 
he  seen  those  eyes  in  his  childhood  when  his  father  made 
war  in  Sicily  with  Hamilcar,  and  he  himself  was  being 
educated  in  Carthage. 

That  shepherd  was  Hannibal! 


CHAPTER  III 

DANCING    GIRLS    FROM    GADES 

SONNICA  awoke  two  hours  after  midday.  The  oblique 
rays  of  the  sun  filtered  through  the  gilded  bars  of  her 
window  over  which  crept  the  foliage  of  grapevines.  Its 
light  heightened  the  color  of  the  stucco  frames  around 
scenes  from  the  Olympian  games  painted  on  the  wall, 
and  of  the  columns  of  rose-colored  marble  which  flanked 
the  doorway. 

The  beautiful  Greek  threw  to  the  floor  the  covers  of 
white  Saetabis  linen,  and  her  first  glance  swept  her  figure, 
taking  in  the  outlines  of  her  body  with  affectionate  eyes, 
from  her  swelling  bosom  curving  in  harmonious  lines,  to 
the  tips  of  her  rosy  feet. 

Her  heavy  hair  perfumed  and  falling  in  silky  curls, 
hung  down  over  her  body,  enveloping  her  as  in  a  regal 
mantle,  caressing  her  from  throat  to  knees  with  a  gentle 
kiss.  The  old-time  courtesan,  as  she  awoke,  admired  her 
body  with  the  adoration  inspired  in  her  by  the  eulogies 
of  the  artists  of  Athens. 

She  was  still  young  and  beautiful;  she  could  still 
thrill  men  with  emotion  when,  at  the  end  of  a  banquet, 
she  displayed  herself  upon  the  table  nude  as  Phryne. 
Her  hands  eager  for  the  thrilling  touch  of  her  beauty, 
caressed  her  firm  round  throat,  the  pearly  globes  termin- 
ating in  a  soft  rose  petal,  testing  their  firm  elasticity,  and 

95 


96  S6NNICA 

the  winding  network  of  slender  blue  veins  delicately 
outlined  beneath  the  satiny  skin,  flowing  down,  down — 
in  line  with  the  strongly  incurved  waist;  the  rotund  hips 
the  slightly  rounded  abdomen,  like  that  of  a  crater,  and 
the  limbs  the  harmonious  proportions  of  which  had  been 
compared  in  other  times  to  the  elephant's  trunk  by  the 
Asiatic  merchants  who  visited  her  in  Athens. 

Passion  had  swept  its  fiery  tongue  over  her  without 
consuming  her;  she  had  lived  in  the  midst  of  its  ardor, 
cold,  emotionless,  and  white,  like  a  marble  statue  in  the 
warmth  of  the  sun.  Seeing  herself  young,  still  beautiful, 
and  with  a  virginal  freshness,  she  smiled,  pleased  with 
herself,  content  with  life. 

"  Odacis  !  Odacis !" 

At  the  echo  of  her  voice  there  entered  a  Celtiberian 
slave,  tall,  spare,  strong,  whom  the  Greek  valued  highly 
for  the  gentleness  with  which  she  combed  her  hair. 

Supporting  herself  on  the  shoulders  of  the  slave,  she 
raised  up  and  sprang  from  the  couch  to  enter  the  bath. 

Her  nude  form  was  invested  by  her  hair  like  a  trans- 
parent, golden  veil.  As  her  bare  feet  pressed  the  mosaic, 
which  depicted  the  Judgment  of  Paris,  the  chill  of 
the  tiles  with  its  agreeable  shock  brought  a  smile  to  her 
lips;  her  laugh  deepened  the  dimples  in  her  cheeks, 
and  the  reaction  caused  the  curves  of  her  body  to  quiver 
with  gentle  undulations. 

She  descended  three  steps  and  threw  herself  into  the 
jasper  piscina  swinging  her  arms  and  splashing  the 
water  into  tiny  pearls.  In  the  green  pool  her  body  as- 
sumed an  ideal  transparency,  the  glow  of  a  fantastic 
apparition,  and  she  moved  from  one  side  of  the  tank  to 
the  other  like  a  siren  with  pearly  back  and  floating  hair. 


DANCING  GIRLS  FROM  GADES         97 

"  Who  has  come,  Odacis  ?"  she  asked,  lying  deep  in 
the  bath. 

"  The  women  from  Gades,  who  danced  last  night,  have 
arrived.  Polyanthus  has  given  them  lodgings  near  the 
kitchens." 

"  And  who  else?" 

"  A  moment  ago  the  stranger  from  Athens,  whom  you 
met  this  morning  at  the  temple  of  Aphrodite.  I  have 
had  him  go  into  the  library,  and  I  have  forgotten  none 
of  the  duties  of  hospitality.  He  has  just  come  from  the 
bath." 

Sonnica  smiled,  recalling  the  meeting  that  morning. 
She  had  slept  badly.  She  attributed  it  to  the  wakeful 
night  spent  with  friends  on  the  terrace  of  the  villa,  and 
to  the  capricious  journey  to  the  port  before  sunrise;  but 
she  thought  with  some  confusion  of  the  impression  made 
in  her  mind  by  the  Athenian's  figure,  which  had  reap- 
peared several  times  in  her  dreams.  Without  knowing 
why  she  associated  Actaeon's  appearance  with  that  of 
Zeus  when  he  came  to  earth  in  mortal  form  in  search  of 
human  love. 

In  her  moments  of  tedium  in  Athens,  when  she  used 
to  submit  with  repugnance  to  caresses  for  piles  of  gold, 
she  experienced  the  vague  desire  of  being  loved  by  a 
god.  She  thought  of  Leda,  of  Psyche,  even  of  the  ef- 
feminate Ganymede  beloved  of  the  guests  on  Olympus, 
and  she  was  in  despair  at  the  impossibility  of  finding  a 
god  who  should  transport  her  captive  through  a  mys- 
terious forest,  or  along  some  roadway  leading  to  the  un- 
known. She  longed  to  contemplate  her  image  in  the 
depths  of  eyes  animated  by  the  splendor  of  the  infinite; 


98  SONNICA 

to  kiss  a  mouth  which  served  as  a  portal  to  supreme 
wisdom;  to  feel  herself  imprisoned  in  arms  possessed 
of  the  immense  strength  of  omnipotence.  She  had  ex- 
perienced a  suggestion  of  this  joy  in  loving  her  poet, 
who  was  sometimes  as  majestic  and  sublime  as  a  divine 
being;  but  the  simplicity  of  youth  prevented  her  appre- 
ciation of  that  joy,  and  now,  in  her  maturity,  she  only 
met  men  like  those  she  had  known  in  Athens,  some  rude 
and  brutal,  others  effeminate  and  captious,  lacking  the 
severe  and  sovereign  beauty  she  admired  in  statues. 

She  left  her  bath  breathing  with  happy,  childlike 
thrills,  while  her  hair  scattered  a  light  shower  at  every 
step. 

Odacis  called,  and  three  slaves  entered;  they  were 
those  who  assisted  at  their  mistress'  toilet,  the  tracta- 
trices  in  charge  of  the  massage  of  the  body. 

Sonnica  allowed  herself  to  be  manipulated  by  the 
three  women  who  rubbed  her  vigorously,  stretching  her 
limbs  to  keep  them  supple  and  agile.  Then  she  seated 
herself  in  a  marble  chair,  resting  her  pink  elbows  on 
the  dolphins  which  formed  the  arms  of  the  seat,  and  in 
this  position,  erect  and  motionless,  she  waited  for  the 
slaves  to  proceed  with  the  toilet. 

One  who  was  almost  a  child,  wrapped  in  a  mantle 
of  broad  stripes,  knelt  on  the  floor  holding  a  great  en- 
graved bronze  mirror  in  which  Sonnica  gazed  at  herself 
down  to  her  thighs.  Another  arranged  the  toilet  articles 
on  the  tables,  and  Odacis  began  to  smooth  her  mistress' 
splendid  hair  with  ivory  combs.  Meanwhile,  the  other 
slave  approached  with  a  bronze  patera  filled  with  a 
gray  ointment.  It  was  the  bean-flour  used  by  the  Athen- 
ians of  refinement  to  preserve  the  skin  firm  and  elastic. 


DANCING  GIRLS  FROM  GADES         99 

She  anointed  Sonnica's  cheeks  with  this,  and  then  the 
prominent  breasts,  the  abdomen,  the  thighs,  and  knees, 
leaving  nearly  the  whole  body  covered  by  a  lustrous, 
unctuous  coating.  Where  hair  had  a  tendency  to  grow, 
she  applied  dropax,  a  depilatory  paste,  composed  of 
vinegar  and  earth  from  Cyprus. 

Sonnica  passively  assisted  these  toilet  preparations, 
which  made  her  momentarily  ugly  in  order  that  she 
might  reappear  each  day  more  beautiful. 

Odacis  continued  combing  her  hair.  She  lifted  the 
splendid  tresses,  burying  both  hands  in  the  brilliant 
cascade;  she  gently  wound  it  over  her  arms  like  an 
enormous  golden  serpent;  then  she  shook  it  out,  dividing 
it  into  small  locks  to  dry  it,  and  then  she  smoothed  it 
lovingly  with  the  ivory  combs  piled  on  the  table  near  at 
hand,  veritable  prodigies  of  art,  with  the  finest  of  teeth, 
their  upper  parts  engraved  with  scenes  representing 
forests,  arrogant  nymphs  in  pursuit  of  stags,  and  mal- 
odorous satyrs  giving  chase  to  nude  beauties.  After 
drying  the  hair  the  coiffeur  proceeded  to  dye  it. 
With  a  small,  long-necked  amphora  she  moistened  it 
with  a  solution  of  saffron  and  gum  arabic,  and  opening 
a  little  chest  of  gold  dust  she  sprinkled  it  over  the  ample, 
silky  skein,  which  assumed  the  brilliancy  of  the  sun's 
rays.  Then  twisting  the  locks  above  her  forehead 
around  an  iron  heated  over  a  small  brazier,  she  formed 
tight  curls  which  covered  the  Greek  woman's  brow 
almost  to  her  eyes;  she  gathered  the  mass  of  hair  at 
the  neck,  tying  it  with  a  red  ribbon  firmly  interbraided, 
and  she  curled  the  crown  of  the  coiffure,  imitating  the 
spiral  flames  of  a  torch. 

Sonnica  arose.     Two  of  the  slaves  approached  with 


100  S6NNICA 

a  heavy  earthen  amphora  of  milk,  and  dipping  a  sponge 
into  it,  they  washed  their  mistress'  body  as  she  stood 
near  the  piscina,  to  remove  the  bean-paste.  The  glossy 
whiteness  of  her  skin  reappeared  more  fresh  and  moist. 

Odacis,  with  silver  tweezers  in  her  hand,  carefully 
inspected  her  mistress'  body,  with  the  attentive  and 
frowning  brow  of  the  artist  preparing  a  great  work. 
She  had  charge  of  the  depilation;  her  skillful  hand  won 
praise  for  its  gentleness  as  it  obstinately  sought  out 
the  lightest  down,  implacably  destroying  it  with  her 
tweezers,  in  deference  to  the  Greek  custom  of  imitating 
the  polished  smoothness  of  the  statues. 

Sonnica  being  again  seated  in  her  ivory  chair,  the 
touching  up  of  the  face  began.  On  the  table  near  at 
hand  was  a  formidable  array  of  bottles,  alabaster  vases, 
pots  of  bronze  and  of  silver,  little  caskets  of  ivory  and 
gold,  all  engraved,  brilliant,  covered  with  delicate  figures, 
ornamented  with  precious  stones,  containing  Egyptian 
and  Hebraic  essences,  balsams  from  Arabia,  perfumes 
and  intoxicating  cosmetics  brought  by  caravans  from  the 
heart  of  Asia  to  Phoenician  ports,  and  thence  to  Greece 
or  Carthage,  bought  for  Sonnica  by  the  pilots  of  her 
vessels  in  their  venturesome  trading  voyages. 

Odacis  painted  her  face  white,  and  then,  moistening 
a  small  wooden  style  with  attar  of  roses,  she  thrust  it 
into  a  bronze  pot  decorated  with  garlands  of  lotus 
and  filled  with  a  dark  powder.  It  was  the  kohol,  sold 
by  Egyptian  merchants  at  a  fabulous  price.  The  slave 
applied  the  point  of  the  style  to  the  Greek's  eyelids, 
dyeing  them  an  intense  black,  and  tracing  a  fine  line 
about  the  corners,  which  made  them  appear  larger  and 
softer, 


DANCING  GIRLS  FROM  GADES        101 

The  toilet  was  almost  complete.  The  slaves  were 
opening  the  innumerable  bottles  and  vases  arranged  in 
rows  upon  the  marble  table,  and  the  atmosphere  of  the 
room  was  laden  with  costly  perfumes — spikenard  from 
Sicily,  incense  and  myrrh  from  Judea,  aloes  from  India, 
and  cumin  from  Greece.  Odacis  took  a  small  glass 
amphora  inlaid  with  gold,  with  a  conical  stopper,  ter- 
minating in  a  fine  point  which  served  to  deposit  antimony 
above  the  eyes  to  brighten  them,  and,  after  finishing  this 
operation,  she  presented  to  her  mistress  the  three  oint- 
ments for  imparting  color  to  the  skin  in  different  shades 
— vermilion,  carmine,  and  the  Egyptian  red  extracted 
from  the  body  of  the  crocodile. 

The  slave  began  delicately  coloring  her  mistress' 
body  with  a  fine  brush.  She  produced  a  pink  flush  on 
her  cheeks  and  dainty  ears;  she  marked  rose  petals  on 
her  bosom,  and  she  colored  her  elbows  and  the  har- 
moniously curving  relievo  of  her  dimpled  sides.  Then, 
with  Egyptian  red,  she  colored  one  by  one  the  nails 
of  her  fingers  and  toes,  while  another  slave  put  on  her 
white  sandals  with  papyrus  soles  and  buckles  of  gold. 
Perfumes  were  showered  upon  her,  each  on  a  different 
part  of  the  body,  so  that  it  might  resemble  a  bouquet  of 
flowers  in  which  various  aromas  were  mingled.  Odacis 
presented  the  jewel-casket,  within  which  precious  stones 
lay  shimmering  like  restless  and  glistening  fish.  The 
Greek  woman's  pointed  fingers  lifted  with  indifference 
the  heap  of  collars,  rings,  and  pendants,  which,  like  all 
Grecian  jewelry,  were  more  valuable  on  account  of  the 
workmanship  of  the  artists  than  for  the  richness  of 
the  material.  Scenes  from  the  great  poems  were  re- 
produced almost  microscopically  in  carnelian  cameos, 


102  S6NNICA 

onyx,  and  agate,  and  the  emeralds,  topazes,  and  ame- 
thysts were  decorated  with  profiles  of  goddesses  and 
heroes. 

The  slave  clasped  a  necklace  of  stones  of  compli- 
cated design  upon  Sonnica's  uncovered  breast ;  she  loaded 
her  fingers  to  the  tips  with  rings,  and  the  whiteness  of 
her  arms  seemed  more  diaphanous  girdled  here  and 
there  by  wide  bracelets  of  gold.  To  add  more  ex- 
pression to  the  countenance,  Odacis  decorated  her  mis- 
tress with  small  patches,  and  then  she  proceeded  to 
bind  around  her  body  the  fascia,  or  corset  of  the  epoch, 
a  broad  wollen  band  to  support  the  breast.  Sonnica, 
gazing  into  the  burnished  bronze,  smiled  at  her  statue- 
like  reflection,  as  beautiful  as  Venus  in  repose. 

"  Which  costume,  my  mistress  ?"  asked  Odacis.  "  Do 
you  wish  the  tunic  with  the  golden  flowers  brought 
from  Crete,  or  the  kaldsiris  veils,  transparent  as  air, 
which  you  ordered  bought  in  Alexandria?" 

Sonnica  could  not  decide.  She  would  choose  in  the 
vestiary;  and  in  the  majesty  of  her  unveiled  beauty, 
her  papyrus  sandals  rustling,  she  walked  from  her  dor- 
mitory followed  by  her  slaves. 

Meanwhile  Actseon  was  waiting  in  the  library.  He 
had  visited  great  palaces  in  his  travels  about  the  world, 
he  had  seen — two  years  before  the  earthquake  which 
ruined  it — the  celebrated  Colossus  of  Rhodes;  he  was 
familiar  with  the  Serapeum  and  the  tomb  of  the  great 
conqueror  in  Alexandria;  he  was  accustomed  to  elegance 
and  splendor;  yet  he  could  not  conceal  surprise  at  this 
Grecian  house  in  a  barbarian  land,  more  luxurious  and 
artistic  than  those  of  opulent  citizens  of  Athens. 

Guided  by  a  slave,  and  leaving  the  garden  with  its 


DANCING  GIRLS  FROM  GADES       103 

whispering  foliage  and  its  cries  of  exotic  birds,  he  had 
passed  along  the  colonnade  which  gave  entrance  to  the 
villa.  First  the  vestibule  with  its  plinth  of  mosaic, 
on  which  were  painted  ferocious  black  dogs  with  fiery 
eyes,  their  fierce  and  foaming  mouths  agape,  their 
fangs  erect. 

Above  the  door,  fastened  to  a  lamp,  hung  a  branch 
of  laurel  in  honor  of  the  tutelary  gods  of  the  house. 
Next  to  the  somewhat  gloomy  vestibule,  beneath  the 
open  sky,  like  a  lung  of  the  house,  was  the  atrium  with 
its  four  rows  of  columns  supporting  the  roof  and  form- 
ing an  equal  number  of  cloisters,  upon  which  opened  the 
doors  of  the  rooms,  their  three  panels  decorated  with 
large-headed  nails. 

In  the  centre  of  the  atrium  was  the  impluvium,  a 
rectangular  marble  tank  to  catch  and  hold  the  waters 
from  the  roof.  Great  terra  cotta  urns  covered  with 
flowers  stood  upon  pedestals  between  the  columns; 
four  marble  tables  sustained  by  winged  lions  surrounded 
the  impluvium,  and  near  it  rose  a  statuette  of  Love  which 
on  festive  days  threw  a  spray  of  water. 

Actaeon  admired  the  graceful  strength  of  the  columns 
wrought  in  blue  marble  to  match  the  socles  of  the  gal- 
leries, which  imparted  to  the  light  of  the  atrium  a 
diffused  radiance,  as  if  the  dwelling  were  submerged 
in  the  sea. 

Afterward  the  attendant  turned  him  over  to  Odacis, 
the  favorite  slave,  and  she  ushered  him  into  the  peri- 
style, an  inner  courtyard  much  larger  than  the  atrium, 
which  astonished  the  Greek  with  its  polychrome  decora- 
tion. The  columns  were  painted  red  at  their  bases, 
and  the  color  changed  above  into  blue  and  gold  on  the 


104  SoNNICA 

fluting  and  capitals,  and  was  dispersed  over  the  trellig- 
work  covering  the  porticos.  In  the  unroofed  part  of  the 
peristyle  was  a  deep  piscina  of  transparent  water  in 
which  fish  darted  like  flashes  of  golden  lightning. 
Around  it  were  marble  benches  supported  by  Hermse; 
tables  held  by  dolphins  with  knotted  tails;  clumps  of 
roses,  between  the  foliage  of  which  peeped  white  or  terra 
cotta  statuettes  in  voluptuous  positions,  and  covering  the 
walls  of  the  peristyle,  between  the  doors  of  the  rooms, 
were  great  paintings  by  Grecian  artists — Orpheus  with 
his  heavy  lyre,  nude  and  wearing  his  Phrygian  cap,  sur- 
rounded by  lions  and  panthers  who  listened  to  his 
songs  with  humbled  heads,  stifling  their  growls;  Venus 
springing  from  the  waves;  Adonis  allowing  himself  to 
be  cured  of  his  wounds  by  the  Mother  of  Love;  and 
other  scenes  eulogizing  the  influence  of  art  and  beauty. 

Actseon  was  conducted  to  the  bath  by  two  young 
slaves,  and  as  he  emerged  from  this  he  again  met 
Odacis,  who  bade  him  enter  the  library  beyond  the 
peristyle. 

It  was  a  great  room  paved  with  mosaic  representing 
the  triumph  of  Bacchus.  The  young  god,  beautiful  as 
a  woman,  nude,  and  crowned  with  vines  and  roses,  was 
riding  on  a  panther,  waving  his  thyrsus.  The  pictures 
on  the  walls  illustrated  famous  passages  from  the  Iliad. 
The  more  voluminous  books  were  ranged  on  shelves,  and 
the  smaller  ones  formed  bundles  placed  in  narrow  wil- 
low baskets  lined  with  wool. 

Actaeon  admired  the  richness  of  the  library,  where  he 
counted  more  than  a  hundred  volumes.  They  represented 
a  veritable  fortune.  The  navigators  received  from 
Sonnica  commissions  to  bring  her  whatever  notable 


DANCING  GIRLS  FROM  GADES       105 

works  they  found  on  their  voyages,  and  the  booksellers 
in  Athens  remitted  to  her  famous  books  of  entertain- 
ment which  enjoyed  vogue  in  their  city.  They  were 
all  of  papyrus,  consisting  of  strips  rolled  upon  cylinders 
of  wood  or  bone,  each  end  wrought  into  an  artistically 
carved  umbilicus.  The  sheets,  written  only  on  one 
side,  were  impregnated  on  the  other  with  cedar  oil  to 
protect  them  from  moths,  and  the  title  of  the  book,  the 
name  of  the  author,  and  the  index,  gleamed  in  letters  of 
minium  and  gold  on  the  purple  outer  wrapping.  The 
copying  of  these  books  represented  the  life  work  of  many 
men,  productions  to  be  acquired  only  at  the  cost  of 
great  sums  of  money,  and  the  Greek,  with  the  respect 
characteristic  of  his  race  for  art  and  wisdom,  recognized 
that  he  was  surrounded  in  the  silence  of  the  library 
by  the  august  shades  of  many  great  men,  and  with  ven- 
eration he  turned  from  the  Homer  in  its  old,  time-worn 
papyrus,  and  the  works  of  Thales  and  Pythagoras,  to 
the  contemporary  poets,  Theocritus  and  Callimachus, 
whose  volumes  were  unrolled,  denoting  recent  reading. 

Actseon's  ear  caught  a  faint  rustling  of  sandals  in 
the  peristyle,  and  the  square  of  pale  gold  thrown  on 
the  floor  by  the  light  entering  the  doorway  from  the 
courtyard  was  darkened  by  a  form.  It  was  Sonnica 
arrayed  in  a  gauzy  white  tunic.  The  light  behind  her 
marked  the  artistic  lines  of  her  body  in  the  diaphanous 
cloud  of  her  garment. 

"Welcome,  Athenian!"  she  said,  in  a  studied  but 
harmonious  voice.  "  Those  who  come  from  over  there 
are  ever  masters  in  my  house.  The  banquet  to-night 
shall  be  in  your  honor,  for  no  one  can  be  king  of  the  feast 
and  direct  conversation  like  a  son  of  Athens," 


106  S6NNICA 

Actaeon,  somewhat  stirred  by  the  presence  of  a  beau- 
tiful woman  enveloped  by  intoxicating  perfumes,  began 
to  speak  of  her  house,  of  his  astonishment  at  its  mag- 
nificence in  that  barbarian  land,  and  of  the  admiration 
which  its  owner  enjoyed  in  the  city.  Everyone  he 
met  had  spoken  to  him  of  Sonnica  the  rich ! 

"  Yes,  they  like  me ;  yet  sometimes  they  censure  me ; 
but  let  us  speak  of  you,  Actaeon;  tell  me  who  you  are. 
Your  life  must  be  as  interesting  as  that  of  old  Ulysses. 
Tell  me  first  what  new  thing  there  is  in  Athens." 

For  a  long  time  the  two  Greeks  maintained  an  inces- 
sant chattering.  She  was  eager  to  know  what  courtesans 
triumphed  in  the  Cerameicus  and  set  the  fashions ;  merry, 
unconsciously  harking  back  to  the  life  of  old,  forget- 
ful of  her  princely  opulence  in  Saguntum,  as  if  she 
were  still  in  the  house  in  the  Street  of  Tripods,  and 
Actseon  one  of  the  poor  artists  who  visited  her  of  an 
afternoon  to  discuss  affairs  of  the  city,  in  the  intimacy 
of  comrades.  She  laughed  at  the  latest  witticisms  of 
the  idlers  in  the  Agora,  at  the  song  in  vogue  the  year 
before,  when  Actaeon  left  Athens;  and  with  frowning 
brow  and  the  gravity  of  a  goddess,  she  listened  to  a 
detailed  relation  of  the  recent  changes  of  fashion  and  of 
the  style  of  coiffure  used  by  the  most  celebrated  hetserae. 

The  curiosity  of  the  exiled  Athenian  being  satisfied, 
she  longed  to  penetrate  the  adventurous  life  of  her 
guest,  and  Actaeon  told  his  story  simply.  Born  in 
Athens,  he  had  been  taken  to  Carthage  at  twelve  years 
of  age.  His  father,  in  the  service  of  the  African  re- 
public, fought  with  Hamilcar  in  Sicily.  In  a  village  in 
the  interior  the  selfsame  slave  attended  the  son  of  the 
Greek  mercenary  and  a  lion-cub  of  Hamilcar,  who  was 


at  that  time  only  four  years  of  age.  It  was  Hannibal. 
The  Athenian  recalled  the  blows  he  had  often  dealt 
the  savage  youngster  in  exchange  for  bites  with  which 
the  African  surprised  him  in  the  midst  of  their  games. 
The  revolt  of  the  mercenaries  broke  out  with  those 
horrors  which  gave  it  the  name  of  "  the  truceless  war," 
and  his  father,  who  had  remained  faithful  to  Carthage 
and  would  not  take  up  arms  with  his  companions,  was 
despite  his  loyalty  crucified  by  the  Carthaginian  popu- 
lace, who,  forgetting  his  wounds  received  in  the  ser- 
vice of  the  Republic,  saw  in  him  only  a  foreigner,  a 
friend  of  Hamilcar  who  was  hated  by  the»  partisans  of 
Hanno.  The  son  miraculously  escaped  these  red-handed 
reprisals;  and  Hamilcar 's  faithful  slave  smuggled  him 
aboard  ship  for  Athens. 

There,  under  the  protection  of  relatives,  he  received 
the  education  of  all  young  Greeks.  He  won  prizes 
in  the  Gymnasium,  in  wrestling,  in  running,  and  in 
throwing  the  discus ;  he  learned  to  ride  unbridled  horses 
bareback,  balancing  himself  merely  by  resting  his  toe 
in  a  groove  of  the  lance;  to  temper  the  rudeness  of  this 
education  he  was  taught  to  play  the  lyre  and  to  sing 
verses  in  diverse  styles,  and  being  strong  of  body  and 
mind,  he  was  sent,  as  were  all  Athenian  youths,  to  pass 
his  military  apprenticeship  in  the  garrisons  on  the  fron- 
tier. 

The  monotony  of  this  existence  bored  him ;  it  was  dull, 
and  he  loved  pleasure;  the  blood  of  his  forefathers, 
soldiers  of  fortune  all,  surged  through  his  body;  and 
he  ran  away  from  Africa  to  take  charge  of  a  fishing 
fleet  in  the  Euxine  Sea.  Then  he  became  a  navigator, 
trading  on  land  and  sea;  his  caravans  threaded  Asia, 


108  SoNNICA 

through  warlike  tribes,  and  among  peoples  who  dwelt 
in  the  lethargy  of  a  remote  and  decadent  civilization. 
He  was  a  powerful  personage  in  the  court  of  some 
tyrants  who  admired  him  on  seeing  him  drink  at  a  gulp 
an  amphora  of  perfumed  wine,  and  overcome  the  giants 
of  the  guard  in  a  boxing  match  with  the  agile  dexterity 
of  a  true  Athenian;  and,  loaded  with  riches,  he  built 
a  palace  in  Rhodes  near  the  sea,  and  he  gave  banquets 
which  lasted  three  days  and  nights.  The  earthquake 
which  flung  down  the  Colossus,  also  destroyed  his  for- 
tune ;  his  ships  were  sunk,  his  warehouses  full  of  merchan- 
dise disappeared  beneath  the  waves,  and  he  began  again 
his  pilgrimage  roundabout  the  world;  in  some  places 
he  was  a  singing  master,  in  others  a  military  instructor 
of  the  young  men,  until,  attracted  by  the  Spartan  war, 
he  enlisted  in  the  army  of  Cleomenes,  the  last  Greek 
hero,  accompanying  him  at  the  moment  in  which,  van- 
quished, he  embarked  for  Alexandria.  Poor,  disap- 
pointed, convinced  that  riches  would  never  return  to  him, 
saddened  at  seeing  the  whole  world  filled  with  the  names 
of  Carthage  and  Rome,  while  that  of  Greece  was  sink- 
ing into  oblivion,  he  had  come  to  take  final  refuge  in 
Saguntum,  the  small  and  almost  unknown  Republic, 
in  search  of  bread  and  of  peace.  Perhaps,  in  this  retired 
spot,  if  war  did  not  disturb  its  calm,  he  would  write  the 
history  of  his  adventures. 

Sonnica  followed  his  narrative  with  interest,  fixing 
upon  Actaeon  a  glance  of  sympathy. 

"  And  you,  who  have  been  a  hero  and  a  potentate, 
have  come  to  serve  this  city  as  a  simple  mercenary?" 

"  Mopsus  the  archer  has  promised  to  give  me  a  post 
of  distinction  among  his  troons." 


DANCING  GIRLS  FROM  GADES      109 

"  That  is  not  enough,  Actaeon.  You  would  have  to 
live  like  the  other  soldiers,  spending  your  life  in  the 
Forum  taverns,  and  sleeping  on  the  steps  of  the  Tem- 
ple of  Hercules.  No !  here  is  your  home !  Sonnica  will 
protect  you!" 

In  her  sparkling  eyes,  enlarged  by  the  dark  circle 
traced  about  them,  shone  an  almost  maternal  love  and 
sympathy, 

The  Athenian  gazed  at  her  with  admiration  as  she 
sat  erect  in  her  chair  like  a  white  cloud  in  the  dimly 
illuminated  library,  which,  like  all  Grecian  rooms,  re- 
ceived no  other  light  than  that  entering  through  the 
doorway. 

"  Let  us  go  into  the  garden,  Actaeon.  The  afternoon 
is  delicious,  and  we  can  imagine  ourselves  for  a  moment 
in  the  groves  of  the  Academy." 

They  went  out  of  the  house  and  strolled  along  a  wind- 
ing avenue  bordered  by  tall  laurels,  above  which  peeped 
the  tops  of  banana  trees,  irrigated  with  wine  to  accelerate 
their  growth.  On  the  terrace  two  peacocks  hailed  them 
with  strident  calls,  strutting  along  the  balustrade  and 
spreading  their  majestic  tails. 

Actseon,  on  beholding  his  beautiful  protectress  in  the 
light  of  the  sun,  felt  a  thrill  of  desire  rush  through  his 
body.  She  wore  as  her  only  covering  a  Grecian  chiton, 
an  open  tunic,  fastened  with  metal  clasps  over  the 
shoulders,  and  secured  around  the  waist  by  a  golden 
girdle.  The  arms  emerged  bare  from  the  white  wrap- 
ping, and  the  left  side  of  the  tunic,  closed  from  the 
armpit  to  the  knee  by  small  brooches,  half  opened 
at  each  step,  revealing  her  pearly  nudity.  The  material 
was  so  delicate  that  its  transparency  displayed  the  out- 


110  SONNICA 

lines  of  her  rosy  body,  which  seemed  to  float  in  a  veil 
of  woven  foam. 

"  Does  my  dress  astonish  you,  Actaeon?" 

"  No;  I  admire  you.  You  seem  to  me  Aphrodite 
surging  from  the  waves.  It  is  a  long  time  since  I  have 
seen  the  women  of  Athens  disclosing  their  divine  beauty. 
I  am  corrupted  by  my  travels,  through  the  rude  customs 
of  the  barbarians." 

"  It  may  happen  so.  As  Herodotus  says,  nearly  all  who 
are  not  Greeks  consider  it  opprobrious  to  appear  nude. 
— If  you  only  knew  how  scandalized  the  people  of  this 
city  were  in  the  beginning  at  my  Athenian  customs ! — 
as  if  there  existed  anything  more  beautiful  in  the  world 
than  the  human  form! — as  if  the  nude  were  not  the 
supreme  beauty!  I  adore  Phryne,  astonishing  with  her 
nude  body  the  old  men  of  the  Areopagus;  making  the 
thousands  of  pilgrims  gathered  on  the  Eleusinian  strand 
shout  with  enthusiasm  when  they  saw  her  white  form 
surge  from  among  the  veils,  like  the  moon  from  behind 
the  clouds.  I  believe  in  the  promise  of  her  bosom  more 
than  in  the  power  of  the  gods." 

"  Do  you  doubt  the  gods  ?"  asked  Actaeon,  with  his 
fine  Athenian  smile. 

"  The  same  as  do  you  and  all  those  from  there.  The 
gods  now  serve  only  as  themes  for  artists,  and  if  they 
are  tolerated  in  old  Homer,  it  is  because  he  was  skilled 
in  celebrating  their  quarrels  in  graceful  verse.  No;  I  do 
not  believe  in  them;  they  are  as  simple  and  credulous  as 
children,  but  I  love  them  because  they  are  sane  and 
beautiful." 

"  In  what  do  you  believe,  then,  Sonnica?" 


DANCING  GIRLS  FROM  GADES       111 

"  I  do  not  know — in  something  mysterious  that  sur- 
rounds us  and  animates  life;  I  believe  in  beauty  and 
love." 

She  was  silent  a  moment,  standing  in  a  pensive  at- 
titude; then  she  continued: 

"  I  hate  the  barbarians,  not  because  they  have  no 
treasures  of  art,  but  for  the  odium  they  cast  on  love, 
which  they  enchain  with  all  manner  of  laws  and  restric- 
tions. They  are  hypocritical  and  deformed;  they  make 
reproduction  a  crime,  and  they  hate  the  nude,  hiding 
the  body  with  all  kinds  of  rags,  as  if  it  were  an  abomin- 
able spectacle — when  carnal  love,  the  meeting  of 
two  bodies,  is  the  sublime  love  through  which  we  are 
born,  and  without  which  the  fount  of  existence  would 
dry  up — extinguishing  the  world." 

"  That  is  why  we  are  great,"  said  Actason  with  grav- 
ity. "  On  this  account  our  arts  fill  the  earth,  and  all 
bow  before  the  moral  grandeur  of  Greece.  We  are  the 
people  that  has  known  how  to  honor  life  making  a  cult 
of  its  origin;  we  satisfy  the  impulses  of  love  without 
hypocrisy,  and  because  of  this  we  understand  better 
than  others  the  needs  of  the  spirit.  Intelligence  wings 
more  truly  when  it  does  not  feel  the  weight  of  the  body 
tormented  by  pudicity.  We  love  and  study;  our  gods 
go  naked,  with  no  other  adornment  than  the  ray  of 
immortal  light  upon  the  forehead.  They  do  not  demand 
blood,  like  those  barbarian  divinities  enwrapped  on 
clothing  which  only  leaves  uncovered  their  frowning 
assassin  faces ;  they  are  as  beautiful  as  human  beings, 
they  laugh  like  them,  and  their  peals  of  merriment 
wafted  around  Olympus  gladden  the  earth." 


S6NNICA 


"  Love  is  the  most  virtuous  sentiment  ;  from  it  eman- 
ates all  greatness.  Only  the  barbarians  calumniate  it, 
hiding  it  as  a  dishonest  thing." 

"  I  know  a  people,"  said  Acteeon,  "  among  whom  love, 
the  divine  fusion  of  bodies,  is  looked  upon  as  an  im- 
purity. Israel  is  an  amalgamation  of  miserable  tribes, 
occupying  an  arid  region  surrounding  a  temple  of  bar- 
baric construction,  copied  from  all  peoples.  They  are 
hypocrites,  rapacious  and  cruel  ;  on  this  account  they 
abominate  love.  If  such  a  people  were  to  attain  uni- 
versal influence  like  Greece,  if  it  should  dominate 
the  world,  imposing  its  beliefs,  the  eternal  light  which 
shines  on  the  Parthenon  would  go  out;  humanity  would 
grope  in  darkness,  with  the  heart  dry  and  the  thought 
dead;  the  world  would  be  a  necropolis,  all  would  be 
moving  corpses,  and  centuries  and  more  centuries  would 
pass  before  man  would  again  find  the  road,  coming 
back  to  our  smiling  gods,  to  the  cult  of  beauty  that 
gladdens  life." 

Sonnica,  listening  to  the  Greek,  approached  the  tall 
rose  bushes  and  began  to  pluck  the  flowers,  smelling  them 
with  delight.  She  imagined  herself  in  Athens,  in  the 
garden  on  the  Street  of  Tripods,  listening  to  her  poet 
who  had  initiated  her  into  the  sweet  mysteries  of  art 
and  love.  And  she  gazed  sweetly  at  Actaeon,  with 
frank  and  sincere  passion,  with  the  submission  of  a  slave, 
saying  "  I  love  you"  with  her  eyes,  as  if  only  await- 
ing a  word  to  fall  into  his  arms. 

The  breeze  lightly  stirred  the  whole  garden.  Bits 
of  purple  sky  inflamed  by  the  setting  sun  could  be 
seen  through  the  foliage.  A  mysterious  penumbra  began 
to  form  beneath  the  trees.  The  sounds  from  the  fields, 


DANCING  GIRLS  FROM  GADES       113 

the  stirring  of  the  people  outside  the  villa  in  the  houses 
of  the  slaves,  and  even  the  cries  of  the  exotic  birds  on 
the  terrace  seemed  to  come  from  a  distant  world. 

Between  two  clumps  of  rose  bushes  stood  an  image 
of  Priapos  carved  from  the  trunk  of  a  tree.  The  rustic 
god  was  smiling  with  a  lewd  expression,  arching  his 
hairy  breast  and  thrusting  his  abdomen  forward. 

Sonnica  smiled  on  seeing  the  Athenian  looking  at  him. 

"  You  know  that  it  is  an  ancient  custom  to  place  the 
gardens  under  Mie  protection  of  Priapos,"  said  Sonnica. 
"  They  say  that  he  frightens  away  thieves.  My  slaves 
believe  it  firmly,  and  I  keep  the  god  as  a  symbol  of  life 
in  the  midst  of  these  roses,  which  are  as  beautiful  as 
those  of  Psestum.  The  allurements  of  Priapos  complete 
the  sweet  charm  of  abounding  Nature." 

The  two  Greeks  walked  on  in  silence,  with  slow  step, 
along  an  avenue  of  slender  cypresses  at  the  end  of  which 
opened  a  grotto,  its  rocky  walls  draped  with  ivy,  allow- 
ing a  greenish,  diffused  light  to  filter  through  its  open- 
ings. A  white  cupid  spilled  from  a  shell  a  stream  of 
water  like  tender  falling  tear-drops,  caught  in  an  ala- 
baster basin.  There  the  luxurious  Sonnica  spent  the 
warmer  part  of  the  day. 

Actaeon  was  conscious  of  a  soft,  warm  touch  upon  his 
shoulder. 

"  Sonnica  !'* 

Caressing  her  around  her  gold-encircled  waist,  her 
white  and  satiny  arms  knotted  themselves  responsive 
about  his  neck  like  ivory  serpents;  her  head  fell  upon 
the  shoulder  of  the  Greek,  who,  looking  down,  saw  fixed 
upon  him  a  pair  of  violet  eyes  moist  with  ecstatic  emo- 
tion. 


114.  S6NNICA 

"  You  are  Athens  come  back  to  me !"  She  murmured 
sweetly,  with  bated  breath.  "When  I  met  you  this 
morning  on  the  steps  of  Aphrodite's  temple  I  thought 
you  must  be  Apollo  descended  to  earth.  I  felt  the 
Olympian  fire,  impossible  to  resist.  Long  have  I  scorned 
love,  but  at  last  the  little  god  is  avenged,  and — and — I 
love  you!" 

Like  a  soft  glow  the  beauty  of  the  Greek  shone  in  the 
twilight  of  the  grotto. 

Nine  guests  were  bidden  to  Sonnica's  banquet,  and  as 
night  closed  in  they  came,  some  in  chariots,  others  mount- 
ed on  gaily  caparisoned  horses,  passing  between  rows  of 
slaves  holding  lighted  torches. 

When  Sonnica  and  Actaeon  entered  the  festal  hall, 
the  guests  stood  in  groups  near  the  purple  couches 
arranged  about  the  curving  table,  the  marble  top  of  which 
some  slaves  were  washing  with  sponges  and  perfumed 
water.  Four  enormous  bronze  lampadaries  occupied 
the  corners  of  the  triclinium.  From  their  brackets  were 
suspended  numberless  little  jars  of  perfumed  oil,  in 
which  floated  wicks,  shedding  a  rich  light.  Garlands 
of  roses  and  foliage  hung  from  lamp  to  lamp,  consti- 
tuting a  fragrant  border  for  the  banquet  hall.  Near  a 
door  leading  to  the  peristyle  stood  carved  wooden 
tables  piled  with  gold  and  silver  dishes  and  the  keen- 
edged  carving  knives  for  the  use  of  the  slaves. 

Alorcus  the  Celtiberian  stood  talking  with  Lachares 
and  three  of  those  young  Greeks  who  so  scandalized 
the  Saguntines  in  the  Forum  by  their  effeminate  ways. 
The  arrogant  barbarian,  according  to  the  custom  of  his 
race,  wore  his  sword  belted  to  his  waist  until  the  banquet 


DANCING  GIRLS  FROM  GADES       115 

began,  when  he  hung  it  upon  the  ivory  anaclintron  of 
the  couch  that  he  might  have  it  ever  within  reach  of 
his  hand. 

At  the  other  extreme  of  the  table  two  citizens  of  ad- 
vanced age,  and  Alcon  the  pacific  Saguntine,  with  whom 
Actseon  had  spoken  that  morning  on  the  esplanade  of 
the  Acropolis,  were  carrying  on  a  quiet  conversation. 

The  two  old  men  were  long-time  friends  of  the  house, 
Greek  merchants  whom  Sonnica  had  taken  as  partners 
in  business,  and  whom  she  invited  to  her  nocturnal 
feasts,  appreciating  the  dignified  air  which  they  added 
to  these  occasions. 

As  the  devoted  pair  entered  the  banquet  chamber  the 
guests  divined  their  felicity  in  Sonnica's  tender,  shining 
eyes,  and  in  the  abandon  with  which  she  inclined  toward 
Actaeon  her  blonde  head,  crowned  with  roses  and  violets. 

"  At  last  we  have  a  master,"  murmured  Lachares 
with  a  tone  of  jealousy. 

"  He  has  been  more  fortunate  than  we,"  replied  the 
Celtiberian  resignedly.  "  But  he  is  an  Athenian,  and 
I  can  understand  that  Sonnica,  the  cold  hearted,  should 
have  surrendered  to  one  of  her  own  people." 

Actaeon,  being  presented  to  the  guests,  moved  about 
the  hall  with  the  self-possession  of  a  potentate  enjoy- 
ing his  riches,  like  a  man  accustomed  to  princely  splen- 
dors— he  whom  a  stroke  of  fortune  had  suddenly  lifted 
out  of  poverty  to  his  old-time  condition. 

At  a  signal  from  Sonnica  the  guests  reclined  upon  the 
purple  couches  which  surrounded  the  table,  and  four 
young  girls  entered  the  hall  bearing  on  their  heads, 
with  the  slender  grace  of  canephorae,  little  willow  bas- 
kets filled  with  rose-crowns.  They  walked  with  airy 


116  S6NNICA 

ease,  as  if  gliding  over  the  mosaic  to  the  sound  of  invis- 
ible flutes,  and  with  their  delicate  girlish  hands  they 
crowned  the  guests  with  flowers. 

Suddenly  the  steward  appeared  with  an  irritated  coun- 
tenance. 

"  Mistress,  Euphobias  the  parasite  is  trying  to  enter." 

The  guests  burst  into  cries  and  protests  on  hearing 
this. 

"  Throw  him  out,  Sonnica !  He  will  make  us  miser- 
able !"  shouted  the  young  men,  recalling  with  anger 
his  jeers  in  the  Forum  at  their  dress  and  manners. 

"  It  is  a  shame  for  the  city  to  tolerate  that  insolent 
beggar,"  said  the  grave  citizens. 

Sonnica  smiled,  then  suddenly  recalling  a  cruel  epi- 
gram which  the  parasite  had  dedicated  to  her,  and  had 
recited  in  the  Forum  a  few  days  before,  she  said  frigidly 
to  the  steward: 

"  Drive  him  away  with  a  club." 

The  guests  bathed  their  hands  at  a  lavabo  of  per- 
fumed water  which  a  slave  passed  from  couch  to  couch, 
and  Sonnica  had  given  the  order  to  commence  the  ban- 
quet when  the  steward  returned  with  a  rough-knobbed 
club  clutched  in  his  hand. 

"  I  have  beaten  him,  mistress,  but  he  will  not  go. 
He  suffers  the  blows,  but  after  each  one  he  works  his 
way  a  little  farther  into  the  house," 

"  And  what  does  he  say?" 

"  He  says  that  one  of  Sonnica's  feasts  is  impossible 
without  the  presence  of  Euphobias,  and  that  the  blows 
are  a  sign  of  appreciation." 

The  woman  displayed  compassion ;  the  guests  laughed ; 
and  Sonnica  gave  the  order  to  admit  the  philosopher, 


DANCING  GIRLS  FROM  GADES       117 

but  before  the  steward  had  left  the  room  to  comply  with 
her  command  Euphobias  had  already  entered  the  hall, 
cringing,  humble,  but  looking  at  the  assembled  company 
with  insolent  eyes. 

"The  gods  be  with  you!  May  joy  ever  attend  you, 
beautiful  Sonnica !" 

Turning  to  the  steward  he  said  loftily: 

"  Brother,  now  that  you  see  that  I  get  in  anyhow,  try 
to  wield  a  less  heavy  hand  in  future." 

Accompanied  by  the  laughter  of  the  guests  he  rubbed 
his  forehead  on  which  a  lump  had  begun  to  rise,  and 
with  a  corner  of  his  time-worn  mantle  he  wiped  off  a 
few  drops  of  blood  close  to  one  ear. 

"  Greeting,  lousy  one !"  the  gallant  Lachares  called 
to  him. 

"  Away  from  us !"  shouted  the  other  youths. 

But  Euphobias  paid  no  attention.  He  smiled  at 
Actaeon,  seeing  him  reclining  near  Sonnica,  and  his 
eyes  shone  with  a  malicious  expression. 

"  You  have  arrived  where  I  thought  you  would.  You 
will  master  these  effeminate  creatures  who  surround 
S6nnica  and  who  heap  insults  upon  me." 

Paying  no  heed  to  the  mocking  retorts  of  the  young 
gallants  he  added  with  a  servile  smile: 

"  I  trust  you  will  not  forget  your  old  friend  Eupho- 
bias. Now  you  can  set  him  up  to  all  the  wine  he  wishes 
in  the  taverns  of  the  Forum." 

The  philosopher  took  the  couch  at  the  farther  end 
of  the  table,  and  he  refused  the  crown  offered  him  by 
the  slave. 

"  I  have  not  come  for  flowers ;  I  have  come  to  eat. 
I  can  find  plenty  of  roses  merely  by  taking  a  stroll  in. 


118  S6NNICA 

the  country;  but  what  I  do  not  find  in  Saguntum  is  a 
crust  of  bread  for  a  philosopher." 

"Are  you  hungry?"  asked  Sonnica. 

"  I  am  more  thirsty  than  hungry.  I  have  spent  the 
whole  day  talking  in  the  Forum ;  they  all  listened  to  me, 
but  it  never  occurred  to  any  one  to  refresh  my  throat." 

According  to  the  Grecian  custom  an  arbiter  bibendi 
must  be  chosen,  a  guest  of  honor  who  should  propose 
the  toasts,  announce  the  moment  for  drinking,  and  direct 
the  conversation. 

"  Let  us  choose  Euphobias,"  said  Alorcus,  with  the 
grave  humor  of  a  Celtiberian. 

"  No !"  protested  Sonnica,  "  One  night  we  put  him  in 
charge  of  the  banquet  for  a  joke,  and  we  were  all  drunk 
before  the  third  course.  He  proposed  a  potation  at 
every  mouthful." 

"Why  choose  a  king?"  said  the  philosopher.  "We 
already  have  one  at  Sonnica's  side.  Let  it  be  the  Athen- 
ian!" 

"  Yes,  let  it  be  he,"  said  the  elegant  Lachares,"  and 
may  he  not  allow  you  to  speak  during  the  whole  night, 
insolent  parasite !" 

In  the  centre  of  the  table  stood  a  broad  bronze  crater, 
over  the  edges  of  which  peeped  a  group  of  nymphs  look- 
ing at  themselves  in  the  oval  lake  of  wine.  Each  guest 
had  a  slave  at  his  back  to  serve  him,  and  they  dipped 
wine  from  the  crater  to  fill  the  glasses  of  the  guests  for 
the  first  libation.  They  were  murrhine  cups,  brought 
from  Asia  at  a  great  price,  of  mysterious  fabrication, 
into  which  entered  the  dust  of  certain  shells,  and  myrrh, 
hardened  and  tinted.  They  were  white  and  opaque, 
Jike  ivory,  holding  pieces  of  colored  glass  embedded, 


DANCING  GIRLS  FROM  GADES       119 

and  their  mysterious  composition  gave  a  voluptuous  fra- 
grance to  the  wine. 

Actseon  raised  himself  in  his  couch  to  propose  the  first 
toast  in  honor  of  the  chosen  divinity. 

"  Drink  to  Diana,  Athenian/'  spoke  the  grave  voice  of 
Alcon ;  "  drink  to  the  Saguntine  goddess !" 

But  in  the  hand  which  remained  free  the  Athenian  felt 
another,  delicate  and  beringed,  clasping  it  with  a  warm 
caress,  so  he  dedicated  his  libation  to  Aphrodite,  and 
the  young  men  greeted  it  with  shouts  of  enthusiasm. 
Aphrodite  was  to  be  the  goddess  for  that  night!  While 
the  young  men  thought  of  the  dancers  from  Gades,  the 
great  attraction  of  the  banquet,  Sonnica  and  Actaeon, 
their  elbows  resting  on  the  cushions,  caressed  each  other 
with  their  eyes,  while  they  leaned  shoulder  to  shoulder, 
close  to  the  edge  of  the  table. 

Strong  slaves,  perspiring  from  standing  over  the  fires 
in  the  kitchens,  set  upon  the  table  the  food  for  the  first 
course,  served  in  great  plates  of  red  Saguntine  terra 
cotta.  There  were  shellfish  raw  and  broiled,  all  highly 
spiced.  Fresh  oysters,  mussels,  enchinoderms  dressed 
with  parsley  and  mint,  asparagus,  peppers,  lettuce,  pea- 
cock eggs,  tripe  seasoned  with  cumin  and  vinegar,  and 
fried  birds  swimming  in  a  sauce  of  grated  cheese,  oil, 
vinegar,  and  silphium.  There  was  also  served  oxygarum 
made  in  the  fisheries  of  New  Carthage — a  paste  of  tun- 
ny milt,  loaded  with  salt  and  vinegar,,  which  excited  the 
palate,  stimulating  one  to  drink  wine. 

The  aroma  from  these  dishes  floated  through  the  fes- 
tal hall. 

"  Talk  not  to  me  about  the  nest  of  the  phoenix !"  said 
Euphobias  with  his  mouth  full.  "  According  to  the  poets, 


120  SoNNICA 

the  phoenix  bestrews  its  nest  with  incense,  bay,  and  cin- 
namon, but  I  swear  by  the  gods  that  I  would  rather  be 
in  Sonnica's  triclinium  than  in  that  nest!" 

"  Which  does  not  prevent  your  dedicating  insulting 
verses  to  me,  you  rascal,"  said  the  Greek  woman, 
smiling. 

"  Because  I  am  fond  of  you,  and  I  protest  against 
your  follies.  By  day  I  am  a  philosopher;  but  at  night 
my  stomach  compels  me  to  come  to  you,  so  that  your 
menials  may  beat  me,  and  that  you  may  give  me  some- 
thing to  eat." 

The  slaves  removed  the  plates  of  the  first  course,  and 
brought  on  the  second  which  consisted  of  fish  and  meat. 
A  small  roasted  wild  boar  occupied  the  centre  of  the 
table;  great  pheasants  with  their  plumage  laid  as  a 
covering  upon  their  cooked  flesh,  were  displayed  on 
plates  surrounded  by  hard-boiled  eggs  and  fragrant 
herbs;  thrushes  spitted  upon  reeds  were  arranged  in 
form  of  crowns;  hares,  on  being  carved,  displayed  a 
stuffing  of  rosemary  and  thyme;  and  wild  doves  were 
brought  on  with  quails  and  thrushes.  There  were 
innumerable  dishes  of  fish,  reminding  the  Greeks  of 
the  viands  of  their  native  land,  and  between  mouth- 
fuls  they  discussed  the  glauci  from  Megara,  the  eels 
from  Scione,  and  breams  and  xiphiae  from  the  coasts 
of  Phalerum  and  from  the  Hellespont. 

Each  guest  chose  his  favorite  food  from  among  the 
different  dishes,  and  regaled  his  friends  with  it,  pre- 
sents being  carried  by  slaves  from  one  end  of  the 
table  to  the  other.  More  wines,  in  sealed  and  dusty 
amphorae,  were  brought  up  from  the  cellars,  and  over- 
flowed the  festal  goblets.  Wine  from  Chios,  rare  and 


DANCING  GIRLS  FROM  GADES       121 

costly,  mingled  with  those  from  Csecubum,  from  Faler- 
no,  and  from  Massico,  in  Italy,  and  those  from  Laurona 
and  from  the  Saguntine  domain.  To  the  bouquet  of 
these  liquids  was  added  the  aroma  of  the  sauces,  into 
which  entered,  following  the  complicated  recipes  of  the 
Grecian  cuisine,  silphium,  parsley,  sesame,  fennel, 
cumin,  and  garlic. 

Sonnica  barely  touched  her  food;  she  neglected  the 
successive  plates,  heaped  with  presents  from  her  guests, 
to  smile  at  Actseon. 

"  I  love  you,"  she  whispered.  "  I  feel  as  if  a  Thes- 
salian  magus  had  cast  a  spell  over  me.  My  whole 
being  responds  to  the  throb  of  love.  Do  you  see  these 
fishes?  I  am  afraid  to  eat  them;  I  feel  that  I  would 
be  committing  a  sacrilege,  because  roses  and  fishes  are 
dedicated  to  Venus,  the  mother  of  our  joy.  I  only 
wish  to  drink — to  drink  profoundly.  I  feel  within 
me  a  fire  which  caresses,  yet  consumes  me." 

The  guests  gormandized,  rendering  tribute  to  Son- 
nica's  cook,  an  Asiatic,  purchased  in  Athens  by  one  of 
her  navigators.  He  had  cost  her  almost  the  price  of 
a  villa;  but  they  considered  the  money  well  spent, 
and  they  admired  the  art  with  which  his  meditations 
in  a  corner  of  the  kitchen  produced  these  astonishing 
combinations,  afterward  executed  by  the  other  slaves 
— above  all  that  happy  invention  of  a  mild  sauce  of 
dates  and  honey  for  the  roasts.  With  such  a  slave  it 
were  possible  to  enjoy  one's  food  throughout  the  whole 
of  life  and  to  ward  off  death  for  many  years. 

The  second  course  had  ended.  The  guests  were 
lying  surfeited  on  their  couches,  loosening  their  gar- 
ments. The  slaves  served  them  with  wine  in  horn- 


122  S6NNICA 

shaped  flagons  of  alabaster,  which  permitted  a  slender 
stream  to  gurgle  from  its  spout,  so  that  they  need  not 
lift  themselves  to  drink.  The  purple  drapery  of  the 
couches  was  stained  with  wine.  The  great  lampadaries 
in  the  corners,  with  their  tapers  of  perfumed  oil,  seemed 
to  glow  more  faintly  in  the  dense  atmosphere  charged 
with  vapor  from  the  steaming  viands.  The  garlands  of 
roses  hanging  in  festoons  from  the  lamps  wilted  in 
the  heavy  atmosphere.  Through  the  open  door  the 
guests  caught  glimpses  of  the  columns  of  the  peristyle, 
and  of  a  strip  of  dark  blue  sky  in  which  twinkled  many 
stars. 

The  pacific  Alcon  rising  up  in  his  couch,  smiled 
with  the  amiability  of  mild  intoxication,  gazing  at  the 
splendor  of  the  firmament. 

"  I  drink  to  the  beauty  of  our  city !"  he  said,  raising 
the  horn  filled  with  wine. 

"  To  the  Grecian  Zacynthus !"   shouted   Lachares. 

"  Yes,  let  Saguntum  be  Greek !"  answered  his  friends. 

The  conversation  turned  upon  the  great  festival 
which,  at  Sonnica's  initiative,  the  Greeks  of  Saguntum 
would  celebrate  in  honor  of  Minerva  on  gathering  the 
harvest.  The  Panathenaic  festivals  should  end  with 
a  procession  like  that  which  took  place  in  Athens, 
and  which  Phidias  had  immortalized  in  marble  in  his 
famous  friezes.  The  young  men  spoke  with  enthusiasm 
of  the  horses  they  would  ride,  and  of  the  contests  for 
which  they  were  training  by  persistent  exercise.  Son- 
nica  patronized  the  festivals  with  her  immense  wealth, 
and  she  wished  to  make  these  as  famous  as  that  one 
which  Athens  celebrated  on  the  dedication  of  the  Par- 
thenon. 


DANCING  GIRLS  FROM  GADES 


The  Saguntine  youths  would  race  outside  the  walls 
in  the  morning  to  demonstrate  that  they  were  as  clever 
as  the  Celtiberian  horsemen;  the  more  pacific  would 
contest  in  the  Forum,  lyre  in  hand,  to  win  the  crown 
offered  to  the  one  who  should  hymn  the  poems  of  Homer 
most  creditably;  afterward  the  procession  would  reveal 
all  its  magnificence  through  the  streets  of  the  city, 
climbing  up  to  the  Acropolis;  and  in  the  afternoon 
the  race  of  the  flaming  torch  would  take  place  to 
divert  the  people,  who  would  hiss  at  him  who  let  his 
torch  go  out,  and  would  whip  up  him  who  traveled 
slowly  to  protect  the  flame. 

"  But  do  you  really  believe  in  Minerva  ?"  Euphobias 
asked  of  Sonnica. 

"  I  believe  in  what  I  see,"  she  replied.  "  I  believe 
in  spring,  in  the  resurrection  of  the  verdant  fields,  in 
the  grain  which  springs  from  the  ground  to  nourish  man 
from  its  golden  bearded  heads;  the  flowers,  which  are 
the  incense-bearers  of  the  earth;  and,  above  all  the 
goddesses,  I  love  Athene  for  the  wisdom  with  which 
she  endows  man  and  makes  him  divine,  and  I  love 
Minerva  for  her  bounty  which  maintains  them." 

The  slaves  laid  the  third  course  on  the  table,  and  the 
guests,  half-inebriated,  raised  themselves  in  their 
couches  to  look  at  the  little  baskets  of  fruit,  the  plates 
covered  with  pastry  toasted  over  the  fire  in  the  Cap- 
padocian  style;  buns  made  of  sesame  flour,  filled  with 
honey,  and  browned  in  the  oven;  and  cakes  of  cheese 
stuffed  with  stewed  fruits. 

Small  amphorae  containing  the  choicest  wines,  brought 
from  the  uttermost  ends  of  the  world  by  Sonnica's  ships, 
were  uncorked.  Wine  from  Byblus  in  Phoenicia  satu- 


SoNNICA 


rated  the  atmosphere  with  a  fragrance  as  pene- 
trating as  bottles  of  perfume;  that  from  Lesbos  which 
on  being  poured  gave  forth  a  ravishing  odor  of  roses, 
and,  in  addition  to  these,  cups  were  filled  with  cordials 
from  Erythrea  and  Heraclea,  strong  and  spiritous, 
and  those  from  Rhodes  and  Chios,  prudently  mixed 
with  sea-water  to  aid  the  digestion. 

Some  slaves,  to  excite  again  the  appetite  of  the  guests, 
and  to  make  them  drink,  offered  plates  of  locusts 
cured  in  brine;  radishes  with  vinegar  and  mustard, 
toasted  garbanzos,  and  olives,  prized  for  their  size 
and  flavor,  swimming  in  a  piquant  sauce. 

Actaeon  could  eat  nothing,  diverted  by  Sonnica,  who, 
leaving  her  epiclintron  pressed  against  him,  rubbing 
her  cheek  upon  the  Athenian's  with  mingling  breath. 
Thus  they  remained  in  silence,  each  watching  the  image 
reflected  from  the  pupils  of  the  other. 

"  Let  me  kiss  you  on  the  eyes,"  murmured  Sonnica, 
"  they  are  the  windows  of  the  soul,  and  I  imagine 
that  through  them  my  caress  will  penetrate  to  the  depths 
of  your  being." 

The  arrogant  Alorcus,  grave  as  all  Celtiberians  when 
intoxicated,  spoke  of  the  coming  festival  as  he  gazed 
into  his  empty  cup.  He  had  five  horses  in  the  city, 
the  finest  his  tribe  could  furnish,  and  if  the  magis- 
trates would  allow  him  to  take  part  in  the  rejoicings, 
despite  his  being  a  foreigner,  the  Saguntines  would 
have  a  chance  to  admire  the  strength  and  swiftness  of 
his  beautiful  coursers.  The  crown  should  fall  to  him, 
unless  some  unexpected  event  summoned  him  from  the 
city. 


DANCING  GIRLS  FROM  GADES 


Lachares  and  his  elegant  friends  proposed  to  contest 
for  the  prize  in  singing,  and  their  effeminate  hands, 
slender  and  beringed,  moved  nervously  over  the  table 
as  if  already  thrumming  the  lyre,  while  their  painted 
lips  sang  Homeric  verses  in  subdued  tones.  Eupho- 
bias,  lying  on  his  back  on  his  couch,  gazed  aloft  with 
dreamy  eyes,  with  no  other  earthly  desire  than  to 
reach  forth  his  glass  and  call  for  wine;  but  Alcon  and 
the  Greek  merchants  bcame  impatient  at  the  slowness 
of  the  banquet. 

"  The  dancers  !  Let  the  daughters  from  Gades  come  !" 
they  called  with  tremulous  voices,  the  fiery  spark  of 
intoxication  glowing  in  their  eyes. 

"  Yes  ;  let  the  dancing  girls  come  !"  cried  Euphobias 
rousing  from  his  stupor.  "  I  want  to  see  how  this 
honorable  people  disturbs  its  digestion,  which  is  the 
best  gift  to  man,  by  the  lewd  steps  of  the  daughters  of 
Hercules." 

Sonnica  made  a  sign  to  her  steward,  and  in  a  moment 
the  joyous  sound  of  flutes  was  heard  in  the  peristyle. 

"  The  auletai  !"  shouted  the  guests. 

Four  slender  girls,  violet-crowned,  marched  into  the 
triclinium,  wearing  a  chiton  open  from  waist  to  ankle, 
displaying  the  left  leg  at  every  step,  holding  to  their 
mouths  the  double  aulos,  their  agile  fingers  playing  over 
the  holes  of  the  instrument. 

Standing  in  the  space  enclosed  by  the  curve  of  the 
table,  they  began  a  sweet  melopoeia,  which  caused  the 
guests  to  sit  up  in  their  couches  and  to  smile  placidly. 
Most  of  them  recognized  the  flute  players  as  old  ac- 
quaintances, and  swinging  their  heads  in  time  with  the 
music,  they  watched  with  avid  eyes  the  outlines  of  their 


126  SONNICA 

bodies  which  swayed  rhythmically  from  the  movement 
of  their  dancing  feet. 

Several  times  the  flutists  changed  the  tune  and 
measure,  but  at  the  end  of  an  hour  the  guests  became 
bored. 

"  We  are  used  to  all  this/'  protested  Lachares ;  "they 
are  the  same  flutists  who  always  play  at  your  banquets, 
Sonnica.  Since  you  have  fallen  in  love  you  forget  your 
friends.  Give  us  something  else!  Let  us  see  the 
dancers !" 

"  Yes,  let  the  dancing  girls  come !"  chorused  the 
young  men. 

"  Have  patience,"  said  the  Greek  woman,  lifting 
her  head  for  an  instant  from  Actseon's  breast ;  "  the 
dancers  will  appear,  but  not  until  the  end  of  the  ban- 
quet when  I  am  overcome  with  sleep.  I  know  you  well, 
and  I  can  guess  what  the  finish  of  the  feast  will  be. 
First  I  wish  you  to  see  a  little  slave  who  has  learned 
from  the  Grecian  mariners  tricks  like  those  of  cele- 
brated Athenian  performers." 

Before  the  slave  entered,  the  guests  turned  in  alarm 
toward  the  farther  end  of  the  table.  A  beast-like 
growling  arose  from  beneath  it.  Euphobias  had  fallen 
from  his  couch,  and  with  his  head  on  the  mosaic  was 
disgorging  his  dinner,  accompanied  by  a  stream  of 
wine. 

"  Give  him  laurel  leaves !"  called  the  prudent  Alcon. 
"  There  is  nothing  better  to  dissipate  drunkenness." 

The  slaves  compelled  him  almost  by  force  to  chew 
the  leaves,  paying  no  attention  to  the  philosopher's 
protests. 


DANCING  GIRLS  FROM  GADES       127 

"  I  am  not  drunk,"  shouted  Euphobias.  "  It  is  the 
hunger  which  persecutes  me.  Most  of  the  time  I  can 
find  no  bread,  and  when  I  am  so  fortunate  as  to  sit 
at  a  table  like  Sonnica's,  the  food  which  I  eat  escapes 
me." 

"  Say  rather  the  wine  which  you  drink  escapes  you," 
replied  Sonnica,  resting  her  head  again  on  Actseon's 
breast. 

The  contortionist  had  reappeared  before  the  table,  and 
had  greeted  her  mistress  by  touching  her  hands  to  her 
face.  She  was  a  girl  of  about  fourteen,  with  yellowish 
skin,  wearing  a  pair  of  red  trunks.  Her  nervous  and 
agile  limbs,  and  her  lean,  undeveloped  chest,  made  her 
look  like  a  boy.  The  elder  guests  smiled,  stirred  by 
her  fresh  and  almost  masculine  beauty. 

She  uttered  a  shout,  and  doubling  over  with  elastic 
vigor  stood  on  her  hands,  and  with  feet  in  the  air  and 
her  head  almost  touching  the  floor,  she  began  to  run 
swiftly  about  the  triclinium.  Then,  with  a  powerful 
spring  of  her  arms,  she  leaped  upon  the  table,  and 
trotted  on  her  hands  among  the  confusion  of  plates, 
amphorae,  and  cups,  without  upsetting  them. 

The  guests  applauded  with  enthusiasm.  The  two 
Greek  merchants  offered  her  their  goblets,  pinching 
her  cheeks  while  she  drank,  and  passing  their  hands 
caressingly  over  her  back. 

"  Lachares,"  said  the  philosopher  to  his  aristocrat- 
ic enemy,  "  why  have  you  and  your  companions  not 
brought  your  beautiful  slave  boys  who  serve  you  as 
supports  in  the  Forum?" 

"  Sonnica  will  not  allow  it,"  replied  the  young  gal- 
lant, pleased  at  the  question,  not  suspecting  the  irony 


128  S6NNICA 

in  Euphobias'  words.  "  She  is  a  superior  woman,  but 
this  is  the  only  one  of  the  refined  customs  of  Athens 
which  she  declines  to  tolerate.  She  believes  in  Jupiter 
and  Leda;  but  she  spits  upon  the  beautiful  Ganymede. 
She  is  not  a  full-fledged  Athenian." 

A  double  row  of  broad,  sharp  swords  was  placed 
along  the  floor  by  a  group  of  slaves,  so  that  the  con- 
tortionist might  show  her  greatest  feat.  The  flutists 
began  to  play  a  slow,  solemn  melody,  and  the  contor- 
tionist, again  standing  head  downward,  began  to  walk 
between  the  swords  without  disturbing  them  or  touch- 
ing their  sharp  edges.  The  guests,  cup  in  hand,  follow- 
ed her  course  anxiously  through  the  forest  of  keen  steel 
blades,  which  at  her  slightest  wavering  would  penetrate 
her  body.  She  paused  near  a  sword,  extended  one  arm, 
and  sustaining  herself  on  a  single  hand  she  bent  the 
elbow  until  she  kissed  the  floor;  then  she  stiffened 
the  muscles,  raising  herself  back  to  her  first  position,  and 
throughout  this  whole  maneuvre  the  cutting  edge  grazed 
her  breast  without  even  abrading  the  skin. 

When  the  girl  finished  her  act  the  guests  applauded 
vigorously.  The  two  old  men  flung  their  tunics  around 
her,  while  her  malicious,  boyish  face  peeped  forth  and 
sniffed  the  foods  and  sweetmeats. 

"  But,  Sonnica,"  protested  Lachares,  "  when  did  the 
beautiful  Greek  ever  forget  her  friends  like  this?  Athe- 
nian, you  have  maddened  her  with  your  love;  now  inter- 
cede for  us,  and  ask  that  the  daughters  of  Gades  pre- 
sent themselves  quickly !" 

Sonnica  appeared  to  be  sleeping  upon  Actaeon's 
breast,  spellbound  by  his  close,  warm,  throbbing  heart. 

"  Bid  them  enter let  my  guests  do  what  they 

wish only  leave  us  in  peace!" 


DANCING  GIRLS  FROM  GADES      129 

Footsteps,  giggling,  and  whispering  were  heard  in 
the  peristyle,  and  the  Gaditanian  dancers  entered  the 
triclinium,  crowding  each  other  like  a  stampeding  flock. 

They  were  girls  of  small  stature,  with  supple,  agile 
limbs;  their  skin  a  pale  amber,  their  eyes  large  and 
luminous ;  their  hair  black ;  their  bodies  floating  in  vapory 
veils,  alluring  and  deceptive  in  their  semi-transparency. 
They  wore  on  their  breasts  and  on  their  arms  and  ankles 
strands  of  coins  and  amulets  which  rung  with  merry 
tinkle  at  the  slightest  movement,  and  they  stared  bold- 
ly at  the  guests  like  a  flock  accustomed  to  such  feasts, 
who  traveled  from  banquet  to  banquet,  seeing  men  only 
in  their  hours  of  intoxication. 

The  ruler  of  the  band,  a  wrinkled,  parchment-faced 
old  man  with  an  insolent  stare,  was  dressed  like  them 
in  feminine  veils,  his  cheeks  painted,  his  eyes  encir- 
cled with  black,  having  great  hoops  in  his  ears,  and 
a  cynical  leer  on  his  vermilion  lips,  ready  for  trade  in 
the  most  infamous  traffic. 

Euphobias,  indifferent  to  the  charms  of  the  dancing 
girls,  looked  at  him  with  amazement,  wondering  to  what 
sex  belonged  those  skeleton  arms  peeping  from  be- 
neath the  veils,  painted  white,  and  weighted  down 
with  jewels. 

"  Brother,  are  you  a  man  or  a  woman?"  the  philoso- 
pher gravely  enquired. 

"  I  am  the  father  of  all  these  flowers,"  replied  the 
eunuch  with  a  squeaking  voice,  showing  as  he  smiled 
his  repulsive,  toothless  gums. 

Three  of  the  women,  squatting  on  the  floor,  began 
to  fillip  their  castanets  with  lively  clacking,  while 
another  beat  with  her  hands  on  a  globe-bottomed  tim- 
brel tucked  under  her  left  arm. 


130  S6NNICA 

The  eunuch  rapped  on  the  floor  with  his  staff,  and 
instantly  four  pairs  of  dancers  whisked  into  the  centre 
of  the  triclinium,  and  began  to  swing  to  the  sound  of 
clamorous  barbaric  music  played  by  their  companions. 
They  danced  with  stately  step,  holding  themselves 
majestically  erect,  spreading  their  arms  as  if  swimming 
in  space,  their  brown  bodies  wheeling  in  slow  spirals, 
seeming  to  float  on  the  waves  of  transparent  foam 
which  enwrapped  them.  Gradually  their  movements 
accelerated;  they  gracefully  extended  their  bodies, 
elevating  their  firm  chests,  outlining  their  contours 
among  the  veils — contortions  in.  which  the  trunk  re- 
volved on  the  hips,  a  whirl  of  forms  enclosed  in  white 
and  floating  drapery,  which  as  it  flew  into  a  thousand 
folds  with  voluptuous  undulations,  fanned  up  the  flames 
of  the  lamps. 

Suddenly,  at  a  signal  from  the  old  crone,  the  music 
stopped,  and  the  dancing  ceased. 

"  More !  More !"  shouted  the  guests,  sitting  up  in 
their  couches  with  excitement. 

It  was  merely  a  halt  to  change  the  time  and  to  evoke 
applause  by  taking  a  brief  rest.  The  music  assumed  a 
gay  and  noisy  rhythm;  the  old  eunuch  marked  time  on 
the  floor  with  the  beating  staff;  he  uttered  a  prolonged 
lament,  sad,  yet  with  a  mild  sweetness,  which  did  not 
seem  to  come  from  his  infected  mouth;  and  then  fol- 
lowed slow  dreamy  strophes  of  love  with  words  of 
double  meanings,  which  acted  like  aphrodisiacs,  and 
were  greeted  with  a  roar  of  enthusiasm. 

The  dancers  sprang  into  the  centre  of  the  triclinium, 
whirling  swiftly,  as  if  possessed  of  a  fever.  Each  song 
served  as  a  lash  further  to  excite  their  nerves,  and  their 


DANCING  GIRLS  FROM  GADES       131 

bare  feet  tripped  over  the  mosaic  like  snow-white  birds, 
or  rose  in  gentle  flight,  trailing  clouds  of  gauze,  dis- 
playing well  modeled  limbs  with  tinkling  ornaments 
which  scattered  silvery  tones.  Their  gently  curving 
abdomens  seemed  to  assume  a  separate  existence,  moving 
like  restless  animals  over  their  bodies  which  they  held  in 
sacerdotal  rigidity,  contracting  in  circular  waves,  form- 
ing a  whirlpool  of  voluptuous  undulations,  of  which  the 
umbilicus  was  the  rosy  centre.  They  accompanied  the 
dance  with  incessant  snapping  of  fingers.  Gathering 
the  gauzy  draperies  beneath  their  arms  and  adjusting 
them  around  their  hips,  they  moved  their  amphoral 
curves  with  seductive  rhythm,  sighing  langourously, 
with  bowed  heads,  as  if  enchanted  by  the  contempla- 
tion of  their  own  beauty.  Suddenly  the  music  grew 
fainter,  as  if  drawing  away,  and  the  dancers,  their 
feet  together  and  limbs  half  opened,  descended  in  a 
slow  spiral,  with  gentle  undulations,  until  they  touched 
the  floor;  the  instant  their  callipygian  charms  grazed 
the  mosaic,  they  recoiled  like  suddenly  awakened  ser- 
pents, and  the  castanets  clacked  and  the  timbrel  beat 
louder,  accompanied  by  the  howls  of  the  musicians 
who  animated  them  with  lascivious  words  and  excla- 
mations of  supreme  abandon. 

The  guests,  red  with  emotion,  their  eyes  sparkling 
and  their  mouths  dry,  had  rushed  into  the  centre  of  the 
triclinium,  interrupting  the  dance,  mixing  with  the  couples 
and  grasping  them.  Euphobias  lay  snoring  at  the  foot 
of  his  couch.  Sonnica  had  disappeared  long  before, 
leaving  the  triclinium,  supported  by  a  slave  without 
lifting  her  head  from  Action's  shoulder, 


132  S6NNICA 

The  veils  of  the  dancing  girls  fell  to  the  foot  of  the 
table;  they  devoured  the  sweetmeats  and  fruits,  they 
drank  from  the  amphorae,  plunged  their  heads  into  the 
crater  of  the  nymphs,  and  laughed  on  seeing  their  faces 
bespattered  with  wine.  The  eunuch  continued  singing 
and  pounding  furiously  on  the  floor  to  mark  the  rhythm 
for  his  musicians.  In  vain!  The  girls  who  tried  to 
dance  could  not  escape  from  the  hands  of  the  guests, 
who  at  every  turn  slapped  them  on  their  buttocks  and 
tore  off  their  veils.  The  young  men  rolled  at  the  foot 
of  the  lamps,  maddened  by  these  bacchantes  wise  in 
perversion,  reared  in  a  port  to  which  navigators  brought 
both  the  refinements  and  the  corruptions  of  the  entire 
world.  Alorcus  the  Celtiberian,  brutalized  by  his  en- 
thusiasm, walked  around  the  triclinium  making  a  display 
of  his  strength  by  sustaining  in  his  sinewy  hands  two 
dancing  girls,  who  screamed  with  fright,  while  outside 
could  be  noted  in  the  darkness  of  the  peristyle  the 
movement  of  the  slaves,  men  and  women,  from  the 
kitchens,  creeping  near  to  enjoy  from  (without  the 
spectacle  of  the  bacchanal. 

It  was  not  yet  dawn  when  Actaeon  awoke,  wondering, 
no  doubt,  at  the  soft  couch  and  at  the  perfumes  of  the 
dormitory.  Sonnica  was  lying  beside  him,  and  by  the 
light  of  a  lamp  hanging  near  the  door  he  could  see  a 
smile  of  felicity  flitting  over  her  lips. 

After  the  intoxication  of  the  night  the  Athenian  felt 
a  vehement  desire  to  breathe  the  fresh,  open  air.  He 
was  stifling  where  he  was,  in  Sonnica's  room,  sunk 
down  in  the  couch  that  seemed  to  burn  with  the  fire  of 
their  recent  passion,  near  the  form  which  now  lay  inert 


DANCING  GIRLS  FROM  GADES       133 

and  with  no  other  sign  of  life  than  the  gentle  sighs 
which  inflated  her  bosom. 

The  Greek  softly  tiptoed  out  to  the  peristyle.  The 
lamps  were  still  burning  in  the  triclinium,  and  an  in- 
sufferable vapor  of  viands,  wines,  and  sweaty  bodies 
floated  through  the  doorway.  He  saw  the  guests  lying 
on  the  floor  among  the  snoring  women.  Euphobias  had 
awakened  from  his  drunken  sleep,  and,  occupying  the 
place  of  honor,  Sonnica's  couch,  was  forging  for  him- 
self the  illusion  of  being  master  of  the  villa.  Wrapped 
in  his  tattered  mantle  he  was  compelling  two  sleepy 
dancing  girls  to  dance,  contemplating  their  nude  flesh 
with  a  disdainful  stare  like  a  man  who  considers  him- 
self above  carnal  desires. 

As  Actseon  appeared  in  the  triclinium  some  slaves 
fled,  fearing  lest  they  should  be  punished  for  their  cu- 
riosity. Not  wishing  to  be  seen  by  the  philosopher 
the  Greek  went  out  of  the  house  seeking  the  cool  gar- 
den. There  he  noticed  the  same  flight  before  his  steps. 
Embracing  couples  fled  along  the  avenues;  from  behind 
the  clumps  of  foliage  arose  exclamations  of  surprise 
as  he  approached,  and  in  the  dissipating  shadows  of 
the  night  the  garden  seemed  animated  by  a  mysterious 
life  beneath  its  leafy  bowers. 

They  were  slaves  who,  excited  by  the  feast,  continued 
beneath  the  open  sky  the  scenes  of  the  triclinium. 

The  Greek  smiled,  reflecting  that  the  feast  was 
destined  to  augment  his  mistress'  wealth. 

"  Let  them  enjoy  themselves  in  peace.  To  disturb 
them  would  damage  Sonnica's  interests." 

He  passed  out  of  the  garden  so  as  not  to  interfere 
with  the  joy  of  the  miserable  flock  which,  forgetting 


134  S6NNICA 

every  trouble,  sought  each  other  there  in  the  dim  light 
of  dawn. 

He  crossed  Sonnica's  immense  dominions,  through 
groves  of  fig  trees  and  extensive  olive  orchards,  until 
suddenly  he  found  himself  in  the  highway  of  the  Ser- 
pent. It  was  deserted.  In  the  distance  he  heard  the 
galloping  of  a  horse  and  saw  in  the  bluish  light  of 
dawn  a  rider  who  was  undoubtedly  making  for  the  port. 

As  he  drew  near  Actseon  recognized  him  in  spite  of 
his  head  being  covered  by  the  hood  of  a  war  man- 
tle. It  was  the  Celtiberian  shepherd.  The  Greek 
dashed  into  the  centre  of  the  roadway  and  grasped  the 
horse  by  the  bridle,  while  the  rider,  checked  in  his  race, 
leaned  back,  tugging  at  the  knife  which  he  wore  in  his 
belt. 

"  Be  calm !"  said  Actaeon  in  a  low  voice.  "  If  I  stop 
you  it  is  to  say  that  I  have  recognized  you.  You  are 
Hannibal,  the  son  of  the  great  Hamilcar!  Your  dis- 
guise may  serve  you  among  the  Saguntines,  but  your 
boyhood  friend  knows  you." 

The  African  bent  his  head  forward  with  its  bushy 
mass  of  hair,  and  his  imperious  eyes  made  out  the 
Greek  in  the  dim  light. 

"  Is  it  you,  Actaeon?  When  I  met  you  so  many  times 
yesterday  I  knew  that  you  would  finally  recognize  me. 
What  are  you  doing  here?" 

"  I  am  living  in  the  house  of  Sonnica  the  rich." 

"  I  have  heard  of  her,  a  Greek  as  famous  for  her 
beauty  and  her  talent  as  the  courtesans  of  Athens.  I 
was  also  desirous  of  knowing  her,  and  I  think  I  should 
have  loved  her  if  it  were  a  man's  mission  to  chase  after 
women.  And  are  you  doing  nothing  else?" 


DANCING  GIRLS  FROM  GADES       155 

"  I  am  a  soldier  in  the  pay  of  the  city." 
"  You,  the  son  of  Lysias,  the  confidential  captain  of 
Hamilcar !     You,  a  man  educated  in  the  Prytaneum  of 
Athens,  in  the  service  of  a  city  of  barbarians  and  mer- 
chants !" 

Hannibal  was  silent  for  a  moment  as  if  wondering 
at  the  conduct  of  the  Greek.  At  last  he  added  resolute- 

ly: 

"  Mount  behind  me  on  my  horse !  Come  with  me ! 
In  the  port  a  Carthaginian  ship,  loading  with  silver,  is 
waiting  for  me.  I  go  to  New  Carthage  to  place  myself 
at  the  head  of  my  troops.  Days  of  glory  are  coming, 
an  immense  and  sublime  enterprise,  like  that  of  the 
giants  when,  heaping  mountain  on  mountain,  they  scaled 
your  Olympus.  Come !  You  are  the  friend  of  my  child- 
hood; I  knew  you  before  Hasdrubal  and  Mago,  those 
sons  of  Hamilcar,  whom  the  glorious  captain  gave  me 
for  brothers,  calling  all  three  of  us  'my  lion's  brood.' 
I  know  you.  You  are  astute  and  brave  like  your  father; 
at  my  side  you  will  conquer  riches.  Who  knows  but  that 
you  may  reign  as  king  in  some  fair  land  when,  imitating 
Alexander,  I  divide  my  conquests  among  my  captains!" 

"  No,  Carthaginian,"  said  Actaeon  gravely.  "I  do 
not  hate  you ;  I  remember  our  early  years  with  pleasure ; 
but  I  will  never  go  with  you.  Your  lineage  prevents 
it,  the  past  record  of  your  nation,  and  the  bloody  shade 
of  my  father." 

"  Nationality  is  but  a  fiction ;  'the  people*  a  pretext 
for  making  war.  What  matters  it  to  you  whether  you 
serve  Carthage  or  any  other  republic,  since  you  are  a 
Greek?  If  my  own  people  should  abandon  me  I  would 
fight  for  any  country.  We  are  men  of  war;  we  fight 


136  SoNNICA 

for  glory,  power,  and  riches;  the  needs  of  our  people 
only  serve  to  justify  our  victory  and  our  despoiling  of 
the  enemy.  I  hate  the  merchants  of  Carthage,  pacific 
and  stuck  to  their  shops,  as  much  as  I  hate  the  proud 
Romans.  Come,  Actaeon,  since  we  have  met,  follow  me! 
Fortune  goes  with  me." 

"  No,  Hannibal ;  here  shall  I  remain.  Seeing  your 
African  soldiers  I  should  remember  the  mob  that  cru- 
cified Lysias." 

"  That  was  an  unavoidable  crime,  a  mad  deed  of  that 
truceless  war  to  which  the  mercenaries  impelled  us. 
My  father  lamented  it  a  thousand  times,  remembering 
his  faithful  Lysias.  With  my  protection  I  will  make 
amends  for  that  injustice  of  Carthage." 

"  I  will  not  follow  you,  Hannibal.  I  hav«  bid  farewell 
to  war  and  booty.  I  prefer  to  grow  old  here  in  this 
sweet  and  tranquil  life,  at  the  side  of  my  Sonnica,  loving 
peace  like  any  one  of  those  Saguntines  who  dwells  in  the 
merchants'  ward." 

"  Peace?  Peace?" 

A  strident  and  brutal  shout  of  laughter,  like  that 
which  Actaeon  had  heard  on  the  steps  of  Aphrodite's 
temple  when  the  Roman  legates  were  embarking,  broke 
the  silence  of  the  roadway. 

"  Listen  well,  Actaeon,"  said  the  African,  recovering 
his  gravity,  "the  proof  that  I  still  remember  my  boyhood 
affection  for  you  lies  in  the  frankness  with  which  I 
speak  my  mind.  Only  to  you,  understand  it  well !  If, 
sleeping  in  my  tent,  I  should  learn  on  awaking  that 
what  is  in  my  mind  had  escaped  in  words,  I  would  stab 
the  sentinel  who  guarded  my  sleep.  You  speak  of  peace ! 
Actaeon,  awake!  If  you  think  of  growing  old  in  tran- 


DANCING  GIRLS  FROM  GADES       137 

quility  in  any  part  of  the  world,  flee  with  that  Greek 
woman  whom  you  love,  far,  far  away!  Where  I  am, 
there  shall  be  no  peace  until  I  have  become  the  sov- 
ereign of  the  world!  War  marches  ahead  of  my  foot- 
steps; he  who  will  not  submit  to  me  must  die  or  become 
my  slave!" 

The  Greek  comprehended  the  significance  of  the 
threat. 

"  Remember,  Hannibal,  that  this  city  is  Rome.  The 
Republic  has  taken  it  for  an  ally  and  protects  it." 

"  Do  you  imagine  that  I  fear  Rome?  If  I  hate  Sagun- 
tum  it  is  because  she  is  proud  of  her  alliance,  and  that 
she  scorns  and  forgets  me,  in  spite  of  my  being  near.  She 
fancies  herself  secure  because  that  far-away  Republic 
protects  her,  and  she  laughs  at  me,  though  I  reign  over 
all  the  Peninsula  as  far  as  the  Ebro,  and  am  encamped 
almost  at  her  very  gates.  She  antagonizes  the  Turde- 
tani,  who  are  my  allies,  as  are  all  the  Iberian  tribes,  and 
within  her  walls  she  beheads  the  citizens  who  love  me, 
those  who  were  friends  of  the  great  Hamilcar.  Ah, 
blind  and  vainglorious  city !  How  dear  shall  it  cost 
thee  to  live  near  to  Hannibal  without  knowing  him!" 

Turning  about  in  his  saddle  he  glared  with  menacing 
eyes  at  the  Acropolis  of  Saguntum,  which  stood  forth 
above  the  fog  of  the  early  morn. 

"  You  could  scarcely  lay  siege  to  her  ally  before 
Rome  would  fall  upon  you!" 

"  Let  her  come !"  replied  the  African  arrogantly. 
"  That  is  what  I  want,  I  hate  peace !  I  will  not  submit 
to  seeing  Carthage  subdued  while  there  exist  men  like 
me  and  my  friends.  Either  Rome  or  Africa!  Let  the 
final  clash  come!  The  sooner  the  better,  the  supreme 


138  S6NNICA 

struggle;  and  let  that  nation  which  is  left  standing  be 
ruler  of  the  world!  I  hate  the  rich  of  my  country  who 
live  content  in  the  shame  of  defeat  because  it  enables 
them  to  traffic  calmly  and  to  cram  their  vaults  with 
silver.  Those  are  the  wretches  who,  after  our  defeat 
in  Sicily,  dared  to  dream  of  abandoning  Carthage  and 
of  moving  wholesale  to  the  islands  of  the  Great  Sea  to 
live  in  tranquility.  They  are  Carthaginians  indeed; 
true  sons  of  Phoenicia,  with  no  other  conception  of 
glory  than  trade,  nor  other  aspiration  than  to  find  new 
ports  where  they  can  market  their  wares !  We  Barcas 
are  Libyans;  we  descend  from  the  gods;  like  them  we 
have  greatness  of  thought ;  we  must  be  masters,  or  die ! 
Those  merchants  do  not  understand  that  it  is  not  enough 
to  be  rich;  that  one  must  dominate  and  instill  fear;  and 
they  formed  in  Carthage  a  peace-party,  which  embitter- 
ed my  father's  life  by  defeats,  and  they  leave  me  with 
no  other  resources  than  those  that  I  can  procure  on  the 
Peninsula.  They  do  not  know  the  Barcas,  despite  the 
fact  that  we  struggle  to  make  Carthage  a  world  power! 
My  father,  when  he  lost  Sicily,  foresaw  the  future 
extinction  of  our  nation,  and  he  wished  to  prevent  it. 
We  had  lost  a  great  part  of  our  ancient  commerce.  We 
needed  an  army  to  defend  us  from  ambitious  Rome,  and 
we  did  not  have  it.  The  citizens  of  Carthage  are  good,  at 
the  best,  to  fight  on  their  own  soil.  The  merchant 
cannot  bear  the  weight  of  arms  nor  endure  marches  for 
months  and  years  through  hostile  countries.  The  profit 
derived  from  booty  conquered  with  blood,  he  can 
win  more  easily  standing  behind  his  bales  of  goods,  and 
as  he  loves  money  he  does  not  wish  to  pay  it  out  to 
foreign  soldiers.  That  is  why  Harailcar  brought  us  to 


DANCING  GIRLS  FROM  GADES       139 

the  Peninsula,  and  here  we  have  given  Carthage  new 
ports  and  markets,  and  the  Barcas  have  an  army  gathered 
together  by  their  own  efforts.  Little  does  it  matter 
that  the  Carthaginian  Senate,  lovers  of  peace,  refuse 
to  send  us  soldiers.  The  Iberian  tribes  loved  my  father 
after  putting  his  bravery  to  the  test,  and  they  will  rise 
in  arms  at  the  voice  of  the  Barcas  against  whatever 
enemy  we  may  designate." 

Hannibal  turned  his  gaze  toward  the  distant  moun- 
tains, as  if  he  could  behold  the  innumerable  barbarian 
tribes  who  lived  behind  them  scratching  the  earth,  or 
pasturing  their  flocks.  "Hamilcar  fell,"  he  said  sadly, 
"just  as  he  was  beginning  to  see  his  dreams  realized  in  a 
great  army  with  which  to  enter  anew  into  strife  with 
Rome,  with  riches  of  his  own  to  carry  on  the  war  with- 
out need  of  assistance  from  the  African  merchants. 
Hasdrubal,  the  handsome  husband  of  my  sister,  frit- 
tered away  eight  years  on  succeeding  to  his  authority. 
He  was  a  good  governor,  but  a  timid  commander.  Per- 
haps it  was  Baal,  our  savage  god,  who  guided  the  arm 
of  his  assassin  that  he  might  be  succeeded  by  another 
capable  of  exterminating  the  eternal  enemy  of  Car- 
thage. That  one  shall  be  I!  Listen  well,  Greek!  You 
are  the  only  one  who  shares  my  thought.  The  moment 
for  fighting  the  final  battle  has  come.  Soon  shall 
Rome  know  that  there  exists  a  Hannibal  who  defies 
her  by  taking  possession  of  Saguntum." 

"  You  have  scant  power  for  that,  African.  Saguntum 
is  strong,  and  I,  who  come  from  New  Carthage,  have 
seen  there  nothing  but  the  elephants,  the  fragments  of  the 
army  which  your  father  brought,  and  the  Numidian 
cavalry  which  your  friends  have  sent  from  Africa." 


140  S6NNICA 

"  You  forget  the  Iberians  and  the  Celtiberians,  the 
whole  Peninsula,  which  will  rise  bodily  and  flock  to  the 
taking  of  Saguutum.  The  country  is  poor,  and  the  city 
is  overstocked  with  riches.  I  have  noted  it  well.  There 
is  enough  in  it  to  pay  an  army  for  entire  years,  and 
even  the  Lusitanian  tribes  from  the  coast  of  the  Great 
Sea  will  come  attracted  by  the  hope  of  loot  and  urged 
on  by  the  hatred  of  rude  natives  for  a  city,  opulent  and 
civilized,  where  dwell  their  exploiters.  It  will  be  no 
great  task  for  Hannibal  to  take  possession  of  a  republic 
of  farmers  and  merchants." 

"  And  after  you  become  master,  what  then  ?" 

The  African  answered  nothing,  but  shrugged  his 
shoulders  with  an  enigmatic  smile. 

"  You  are  silent,  Hannibal.  But  after  you  are  mas- 
ter of  Saguntum  you  will  have  gained  nothing.  Rome 
will  hurl  her  thunder  at  you  for  violating  her  treaties, 
and  the  Carthaginian  Senate  will  curse  you;  it  will  set 
a  price  upon  your  head;  it  will  order  your  soldiers  to 
disobey  you ;  and  you  will  die  crucified,  or  you  will  wan- 
der about  the  world  like  a  fugitive  slave." 

"  No !  Fire  of  Baal !"  shouted  the  chief  arrogantly. 
"Carthage  will  attempt  nothing  against  me;  she  will 
accept  war  with  Rome,  even  though  to-day  she  may 
not  wish  it.  I  have  there  innumerable  partisans  of  the 
Barcas;  the  populace  which  loves  war,  because  it  yields 
cargoes  of  loot  for  distribution;  the  people  of  the  out- 
lying districts,  whose  enthusiasm  I  keep  at  white  heat 
by  sending  them  riches  sacked  on  the  Peninsula,  after 
having  paid  my  troops.  Hamilcar  and  Hasdrubal  did 
the  same.  They  would  be  ready  to  cut  off  the  heads 
of  the  rich  if  anything  were  attempted  against  Hanni- 


bal.  Since  following  my  father  for  nine  years,  I  have 
not  returned  to  Carthage,  but  the  people  adore  my  name. 
Even  those  of  the  peace-party  will  follow  me  to  war,  if 
to  war  I  drag  them." 

"  And  how  will  you  conquer  Rome  ?" 

"  I  know  not,"  said  Hannibal  with  his  mysterious 
smile.  "  I  harbor  a  world  of  thoughts  which  would  pro- 
voke the  laughter  of  my  friends  if  I  should  relate  them. 
I  see  myself  like  a  Titan  scaling  immense  mountains, 
following  the  course  of  the  eagle,  ploughing  through 
the  snow,  climbing  to  the  very  sky  to  fall  upon  my 
enemy  with  greater  force.  Ask  me  no  more;  I  know 
nothing  further.  My  will  says,  'I  desire,'  and  that  is 
enough — I  shall  carry  it  through!" 

Hannibal  was  silent,  wrinkling  his  brows  as  if  fear- 
ing he  had  said  too  much. 

It  was  now  daylight.  Women  with  baskets  on  their 
heads  were  passing  along  the  road.  Two  slaves  carry- 
ing a  great  amphora  hanging  from  a  pole  swung  between 
their  shoulders,  stopped  near  them  a  moment  to  rest. 
The  African  patted  his  horse's  neck  as  if  preparing  to 
leave. 

"For  the  last  time,  Greek,  will  you  come?" 

Actaeon   shook   his    head. 

"  I  know  you  too  well  to  beg  you  to  forget  that  you 
have  seen  Hannibal.  You  are  astute.  You  know  that 
what  we  have  spoken  here  must  be  swallowed  in  the 
silence  of  the  fields,  and  must  be  repeated  to  no  one.  Be 
happy  in  your  new  love,  and  live  in  peace,  since,  though 
born  to  soar  as  an  eagle,  you  choose  to  stay  here  in  a 
barnyard.  If  ever  you  oppose  me  as  an  enemy  and 
contend  against  me,  I  will  not  crucify  you;  you  shall 


SONNICA 


not  become  my  slave.  I  love  you,  although  you  will  not 
follow  me.  I  do  not  forget  that  you  were  the  first  who 
taught  me  to  hurl  a  dart.  May  Baal  guard  you,  Actseon  ! 
My  men  await  me  at  the  port." 

His  mantle  floating  in  the  breeze,  he  started  on  a 
gallop,  raising  a  cloud  of  dust,  scattering  the  country 
people  and  slaves,  who  scurried  to  the  sides  of  the  road 
to  give  him  passage. 


CHAPTER   IV 

GREEK    AND     CELTIBERIAN. 

ACTJEON  told  no  one  of  his  meeting.  Moreover,  after 
a  few  days  he  had  almost  forgotten  it.  Seeing  the  city 
tranquil,  busy  in  preparation  for  the  great  Panathenaic 
festival,  trusting  in  its  protecting  alliance  with  Rome, 
the  recollection  of  the  interview  with  the  African  as- 
sumed the  vagueness  of  a  dream. 

Perhaps  Hannibal's  words  were  only  the  arrogant 
boasts  of  youth.  Hated  by  the  rich  of  his  country,  and 
with  no  better  followers  than  those  he  himself  could 
procure,  he  was  surely  not  going  to  attempt  the  auda- 
cious enterprise  of  attacking  a  city  allied  to  Rome,  thus 
violating  the  treaties  with  Carthage. 

Besides,  the  Greek  was  living  in  a  period  of  sweet 
intoxications;  ever  in  Sonnica's  arms  in  the  shade  of 
the  peristyle;  listening  to  the  lyres  of  the  slaves  and 
the  flutes  of  the  flute  players,  and  watching  the  dancers 
from  Gades,  while  his  beloved  crowned  him  with  flowers, 
or  sprinkled  costly  perfumes  upon  him. 

Sometimes  the  restless  spirit  of  the  wanderer  and 
man  of  war,  trained  to  action  and  strife,  manifested  it- 
self in  the  midst  of  this  effeminacy.  Then  he  would 
flee  to  the  city.  There  he  conversed  with  Mopsus,  the 
archer,  and  listened  to  the  grumblers  in  the  Forum, 
who,  not  suspecting  that  Hannibal  had  passed  through 

143 


144  S6NNICA 

Saguntum,  jested  at  the  possibility  of  the  African  chief 
attempting  anything  against  them,  and  gloated  in  their 
power,  trusting  in  the  strength  of  their  walls,  and  still 
more  in  the  protection  of  Rome,  which  would  repeat 
on  the  coasts  of  Iberia  their  triumphs  over  the  Car- 
thaginians in  Sicily. 

Actaeon  contracted  a  great  friendship  with  Alorcus 
the  Celtiberian.  He  admired  the  fiery  pride  of  the  bar- 
barian, his  nobility  of  sentiment,  and  the  almost  reli- 
gious respect  he  displayed  for  the  cultured  Grecian  wom- 
an. His  father,  now  old  and  sick,  was  a  petty  king 
reigning  over  some  tribes  which  pastured  great  flocks 
of  horses  and  cattle  in  the  mountains  of  Celtiberia. 
He  was  the  sole  heir,  and  some  day  would  be  obliged  to 
rule  that  rude  people  with  their  ferocious  customs,  who, 
in  perpetual  brigandage,  made  war  for  the  sake  of 
stealing  horses,  and  in  years  of  famine  came  down 
from  the  mountains  to  despoil  the  farmers  on  the  plains. 
His  father  had  brought  him  to  Saguntum  when  a  child, 
and  the  Grecian  customs  produced  such  an  effect  in 
him  that,  when  he  had  grown  to  manhood  it  became  his 
most  earnest  desire  to  return  to  the  city  on  the  coast, 
and  there  he  lived  with  a  few  servants  of  his  tribe  and 
his  magnificent  horses,  deaf  to  the  affectionate  calls  of 
the  old  chieftain  drawing  near  to  death,  and  being  es- 
teemed by  the  Saguntines  as  almost  a  fellow  citizen. 

He  was  eager  to  figure  in  the  festival  of  the  Pana- 
thenaea,  that  the  Greeks  of  the  city  should  admire  him 
galloping  in  the  races  to  conquer  the  crown  of  olives. 
He  was  grateful  to  Actaeon  for  using  his  influence 
with  Sonnica  to  secure  the  consent  of  the  magistrates 
that  the  Celtiberian  might  enter  among  the  horsemen 


GREEK  AND  CELTIBERIAN          145 

in  the  great  procession  that  would  climb  to  the  Acrop- 
olis carrying  the  first  sheaves  of  wheat  to  the  temple 
of  Minerva. 

In  those  days  when  the  Athenian  languished  amidst 
songs  and  perfumes,  overwhelmed  by  the  caresses  of  the 
Greek  woman,  who  seemed  to  blaze  with  the  fire  of  the 
last  passion  of  her  life,  he  sprang  from  his  couch  at 
dawn,  slung  his  bow  across  his  back,  and  followed  by 
two  handsome  dogs  tramped  through  the  Saguntine 
domain,  giving  chase  to  the  wildcats  which  came  down 
from  the  surrounding  mountains. 

On  one  of  these  excursions  he  had  an  adventure.  It 
was  noon;  the  sun's  warm  light  fell  upon  the  land,  and 
the  panting  dogs  halted,  barking  at  a  grove  of  ancient 
fig  trees  with  branches  sweeping  the  ground,  forming 
shady  canopies  of  dense  foliage.  Actaeon,  quieting  the 
animals,  approached  cautiously  with  bow  ready  to  draw, 
and  as  he  parted  the  curtain  of  leaves  he  saw  in  the 
centre  of  an  open  space  enclosed  by  the  trees  his  two 
friends  Rhanto  and  Erotion. 

The  boy  was  seated  on  the  ground  before  a  pile  of 
red  clay  which  he  was  carefully  modeling,  wrinkling 
his  brow,  and  whistling  intently.  The  shepherdess, 
completely  nude,  with  the  assurance  of  healthy  and  in- 
nocent beauty,  happy  in  being  admired,  was  smiling  at 
Erotion,  her  cheeks  flushing  lightly  every  time  the  art- 
ist raised  his  eyes  from  the  clay  to  the  model. 

Actaeon  drank  in  with  his  eyes  the  form  of  her  vernal 
body.  He  felt  the  enthusiasm  of  the  Greeks  in  the 
presence  of  beauty,  intensified  by  the  ardor  of  man- 
hood. He  admired  her  bosom,  tender  and  small  as  buds, 
barely  perceptible;  her  lightly  curving  hips;  the  line 


146  S6NNICA 

from  her  throat  to  her  feet  soft  and  undulating, 
which  served  to  give  more  elegance  to  her  chaste  ap- 
pearance; the  grace  of  strong  and  beautiful  girlhood, 
in  addition  to  the  attraction  of  sex.  With  the  taste  of 
a  Greek  of  refinement  he  rejoiced  in  the  freshness  of 
her  form,  comparing  it  mentally  with  Sonnica's  opulent 
but  somewhat  over-ripe  charms. 

Rhanto,  as  she  saw  the  Greek's  head  appear  between 
the  leaves,  uttered  a  piercing  scream  and  scurried 
behind  a  fig  tree  in  search  of  her  clothes.  Bells  tinkled 
among  the  foliage  and  the  goats  thrust  forward  their 
glossy  muzzles,  their  moist  eyes,  and  curving  horns. 

"Is  it  you,  Athenian?"  said  Erotion,  arising  with  a 
gesture  of  ill  humor.  "  You  have  frightened  Rhanto 
by  your  unexpected  presence." 

Then  he  added  maliciously,  "  Rhanto  is  your  slave. 
I  am  well  aware  of  that.  And  I  also  know  that  you 
are  the  master  of  the  pottery  where  I  work.  You  have/ 
risen  much  since  that  morning  when  we  met  you  on  the 
highway  of  the  Serpent.  You  have  dominion  over  Son- 
nica  the  rich.  Love  has  made  her  your  slave." 

"  I  am  not  master  of  anyone,"  said  the  Greek  simply. 
"  I  am  your  friend,  and  I  do  not  forget  that  the  first 
bread  I  ate  in  this  city  I  received  from  your  hands." 

Erotion  seemed  to  gain  confidence  at  these  words. 

"  What  are  you  looking  at,  Athenian  ?  That  clay  ? 
How  you  must  laugh  at  me!  I  am  convinced  that  I 
am  worthless  as  an  artist.  Yet  there  are  moments  when 
I  feel  myself  capable  of  a  great  work;  I  conceive  it; 
I  see  it  in  my  mind  as  clearly  as  if  I  had  it  erected  be- 
fore me;  but  when  I  put  my  hands  to  the  clay  I  realize 


GREEK  AND  CELTIBERIAN          147 

my  lack  of  skill,  and  I  am  ready  to  weep.  Ah!  if  only 
I  could  have  gone  to  Greece!" 

His  words  sounded  like  a  lament;  he  stared  angrily 
at  the  pile  of  clay  which  had  crudely  begun  to  assume 
the  outlines  of  Rhanto's  form. 

"  If  you  only  knew  how  I  had  to  urge  her  before 
she  would  consent  to  show  the  divine  nudity  of  her 
body.  Do  not  think  it  strange.  She  comes  of  a  race 
of  barbarians.  She  fears  the  club  of  her  grandfather, 
the  chief  shepherd,  that  would  fall  upon  her  body  if 
he  should  discover  her  as  you  did  a  few  minutes  ago. 
I  explained  to  her  about  our  sculptors,  before  whom 
the  most  famous  hetaerse  contended  for  the  honor  of 
disrobing;  and  the  certainty  that  her  mistress,  Sonnica, 
had  done  the  same  in  Athens  was  the  only  thing  that 
decided  her.  But  how  can  one  copy  her  divine  body? 
How  imbue  molded  clay  with  the  life  which  throbs 
beneath  her  skin?" 

In  his  despair  he  threatened  the  clay  figurine  as  if 
he  would  crush  it  under  his  feet.  Then  he  took  courage, 
and  said  resolutely: 

"  But  I  will  be  stronger  than  my  untrained  hands. 
I  will  work  years  and  years  if  necessary,  until  I  see 
the  divine  form  of  my  Rhanto  reproduced  in  all  its 
beauty.  I  will  not  return  to  the  pottery,  although  the 
old  archer  may  kill  me  with  blows.  I  began  my  statu- 
ette hoping  that  it  might  figure  in  the  Panathenaic 
procession.  Rhanto  would  carry  it  on  her  head,  and  the 
multitude  would  crowd  around  to  see  it.  I  only  hope 
for  a  moment  of  inspiration,  a  fortunate  moment.  Who 
knows  if  to-morrow  the  muses  may  not  breathe  upon  me, 


148  S6NNICA 

and  that  I  shall  arise  with  the  skill  in  my  hands  to  exe- 
cute my  dream?" 

Frankly  hurling  himself  down  from  the  pinnacle  of 
his  imagination  he  told  the  Athenian  his  ambition. 

"  If  I  manage  to  finish  this  statue  the  future  will 
be  all  my  own,  and  some  day  my  name  will  be  engraved 
in  the  Forum,  and  the  people  of  the  city  will  read  it 
with  admiration.  I  will  free  myself  from  the  pottery 
forever.  I  will  present  my  statue  to  Sonnica,  after  it 
has  been  admired  by  all  Saguntum  in  the  Panathensea, 
and  your  lover,  who  is  so  generous,  will  give  me  passage 
in  one  of  her  ships.  I  shall  see  Athens.  I  will  admire 
what  you  have  seen,  and  then — then!  Look,  Actaeon, 
through  these  leaves.  What  do  you  see  on  the  hill  of 
the  Acropolis?  Nothing.  Walls  of  great  stones,  columns, 
roofs  of  temples,  but  not  a  single  statue  to  proclaim 
from  afar  the  glory  of  the  city.  They  say  that  upon 
the  Acropolis  of  Athens  rises  the  gigantic  figure  of 
Pallas,  all  of  bronze  and  gold,  with  a  lance  that  seems 
to  burn  in  the  sunlight,  and  that  it  guides  the  mariners 
like  a  flame  from  many  stadia  out  at  sea.  Is  that  truer 
Many,  many  nights  have  I  dreamt  of  something  like  that, 
and  I  see  Erotion  returned  from  Athens  a  great  artist, 
and  raising  a  colossal  work  upon  our  Acropolis.  The 
bulls  of  Geryon,  enormous,  gigantic,  with  gilded  horns 
shining  like  flames,  and  behind  them  Hercules,  covered 
with  the  skin  of  the  Nemean  lion,  like  Theron,  his 
priest,  in  the  great  festivals  of  Saguntum,  and  his 
club,  menacing  on  the  height,  shall  be  a  signal  to  all 
the  navigators  of  the  Sucronian  gulf.  Ah!  If  only  some 
day  I  realize  this  achievement!" 

Rhanto   had   come   out   of   her   hiding-place   covered 


GREEK  AND  CELTIBERIAN          149 

by  a  tunic,  and  she  timidly  approached  Actseon,  looking 
at  him  respectfully,  and  blushing  at  the  same  time  at  the 
recollection  of  the  condition  in  which  he  had  surprised 
her.  Erotion,  excited  by  the  telling  of  his  hopes,  showed 
eagerness  to  resume  his  task.  He  glanced  at  his 
work,  and  seemed  to  disrobe  the  shepherdess  with  his 
eyes. 

The  Athenian  understood  that  his  presence  disturbed 
the  young  people. 

"  Work,  Erotion !"  he  said.  "  Be  a  great  artist  if  you 
can.  The  sculptors  of  Athens  would  envy  you  your 
model.  Now  that  I  know  that  you  hide  here  I  will  not 
again  annoy  you  with  my  presence." 

And  so  it  was.  He  left  the  grove  of  fig  trees  per- 
mitting the  two  to  work  undisturbed  in  their  mysterious 
retreat,  Erotion  spurred  on  by  ambition,  Rhanto  sub- 
missive from  love. 

The  day  of  the  Panathenaea  came  at  last. 

The  fame  of  the  solemn  festival  had  spread  beyond 
the  confines  of  Saguntum,  and  the  rude  Celtiberians 
assembled  by  caravans  to  witness  the  diversions  of  the 
rustic  people. 

The  workers  from  the  domain  abandoned  the  labor 
of  the  harvest,  and,  dressed  in  their  best,  began  stream- 
ing into  the  city  at  sunrise  to  attend  the  festival  of  the 
goddess  of  the  fields.  They  carried  great  sheaves  of 
wheat,  interspersed  with  flowers,  to  offer  to  the  goddess, 
and  white  fleeced  lambs  adorned  with  ribbons  to  sac- 
rifice on  her  altar. 

By  sunrise  the  city  was  filled  with  a  multicolored 
crowd  which  gathered  in  the  Forum,  or  hurried  along 
the  river  banks  to  see  the  horse  races, 


150  S6NNICA 

A  great  stadium  had  been  formed  near  the  Baetis- 
Perkes  in  which  the  principal  citizens  of  Saguntum  were 
to  contest  for  the  triumph.  The  senators,  on  long 
benches,  and  guarded  by  a  group  of  mercenaries,  pre- 
sided over  the  festival.  At  one  end  of  the  race-track 
the  sons  of  the  merchants  and  rich  agriculturists,  the 
entire  youth  of  Saguntum,  almost  nude,  awaited  the 
signal,  leaning  on  their  light  lances,  and  holding  the 
bridles  of  their  barebacked  horses  which  snorted  and 
champed  the  bit,  scenting  the  coming  contest. 

The  signal  to  start  was  given,  and  placing  their  left 
feet  on  the  handles  of  their  lances  all  sprang  simul- 
taneously upon  their  chargers,  dashing  forward  in  a 
compact  squadron  along  the  track.  The  immense  crowd 
broke  into  acclamations  at  sight  of  the  bizarre  riders 
who  leaning  forward  almost  lay  on  their  horses'  necks, 
as  if  forming  a  single  body  with  them,  waving 
their  lances,  quickening  their  gallop  with  shouts,  and 
wrapped  in  a  cloud  of  dust  through  which  the  multi- 
tude could  barely  make  out  the  straining  legs  and  the 
bellies  of  the  animals  which  were  nearly  touching  the 
ground.  The  wild  race  lasted  long.  The  less  skillful 
riders,  and  those  with  poorer  mounts,  were  being  out- 
stripped; the  squadron  was  diminishing  visibly.  He 
who  should  remain  longest  on  the  track,  ever  in  advance 
of  the  others,  would  win  the  crown,  and  the  people 
made  bets  on  the  Celtiberiato  Alorcus,  and  on  the 
Athenian  Actseon  who  figured  from  the  first  instant  at 
the  head  of  the  riders. 

The  citizens  who  did  not  wish  to  wait  in  the  sun  for  the 
end  of  the  race  followed  the  river  bank  until  they  reached 
the  walls,  in  the  shade  of  which  the  youths  were 


GREEK  AND  CELTIBERIAN  151 

wrestling  or  engaging  in  boxing  matches  in  competition 
for  the  prize  for  dexterity.  Others  of  more  pacific 
turn  went  to  the  Forum,  where  beneath  the  porticos 
the  young  aristocrats  were  competing  for  the  laurel 
crown  offered  for  the  most  skilled  in  music  and  song. 
Seated  on  ivory  chairs,  attended  by  their  handsome 
slave  boys  who  fanned  them  with  branches  of  myrtle, 
Lachares  and  his  friends  played  the  flute  or  thrummed 
the  lyre,  singing  Greek  verses  with  sweet  and  effemin- 
ate intonations.  In  the  gathering,  some  laughed,  mim- 
icking the  softness  of  their  voices,  but  others,  indignant, 
compelled  silence,  overcome  by  the  charm  which  art, 
even  in  this  womanish  guise,  exercised  over  their  un- 
cultured minds. 

Late  in  the  morning  the  clamor  from  the  enthusiastic 
multitude  filled  the  broad  space  of  the  Forum  like  re- 
verberating thunder.  It  was  the  people  returning  from 
the  races,  acclaiming  the  victor.  The  arrogant  Alorcus, 
dragged  off  the  back  of  his  horse,  was  borne  on  the 
shoulders  of  the  most  enthusiastic.  The  olive  crown 
encircled  his  tossed  and  dusty  hair.  Actaeon  was  beside 
him,  celebrating  his  triumph  fraternally,  without  a 
touch  of  envy. 

The  singers,  swept  away  before  this  wave  of  en- 
thusiasm, made  off  with  their  chairs  and  instruments. 
The  crown  of  laurel  was  bound  upon  Lachares  in  the 
midst  of  general  indifference,  and  he  received  no  other 
congratulations  than  those  of  his  slaves.  All  the  enthusi- 
asm of  the  city  was  lavished  upon  the  winner  in  the 
races;  the  people  were  inflamed  with  admiration  for 
strength  and  skill. 


152  S6NNICA 

The  solemn  moment  had  come;  the  pompa  was  about 
to  begin.  In  the  merchant's  ward  slaves  hung  red  and 
green  bunting  from  roof  to  roof  which  shaded  the  streets. 
The  windows  and  terraces  were  draped  with  multi- 
colored tapestries  of  complicated  design,  and  slave 
women  placed  censers  in  the  doorways  for  burning  per- 
fumes. 

The  rich  Grecian  women,  followed  by  their  servants 
who  carried  sedan  chairs,  went  in  search  of  places 
where  they  could  sit  on  the  steps  of  the  temples  or  in 
the  shops  at  the  Forum,  and  the  people  ranged  them- 
selves along  the  houses,  impatiently  awaiting  the  arrival 
of  the  procession  which  was  forming  outside  the  walls. 
Flocks  of  children  completely  nude  ran  through  the 
streets  waving  branches  of  myrtle,  shouting  acclama- 
tions in  honor  of  the  goddess. 

Suddenly  the  people  stirred,  bursting  into  cries  of 
enthusiasm.  The  pageant  in  honor  of  Minerva  had  en- 
tered through  the  gate  of  the  Road  of  the  Serpent  and 
was  advancing  slowly  toward  the  Forum,  through  the 
ward  of  the  merchants,  who  were  the  organizers  of  the 
festival. 

In  advance  marched  venerable  old  men  with  long 
beards,  dressed  in  white,  with  voluminous  mantles,  their 
snowy  hair  crowned  with  green  leaves,  and  carrying 
olive  branches  in  their  hands.  Then  came  the  more  ar- 
rogant citizens,  armed  with  lance  and  shield,  the  visor 
of  the  Grecian  helmet  drawn  down  over  their  eyes, 
proudly  displaying  the  strong  muscles  of  their  arms 
and  limbs.  Next  followed  the  most  beautiful  youths 
of  the  city,  crowned  with  flowers,  singing  hymns  in 
praise  of  the  goddess;  choruses  of  nude  children,  danc- 


GREEK  AND  CELTIBERIAN          153 

ing  with  unaffected  grace,  clasping  hands,  forming  a 
chain  of  complicated  combinations.  Now  appeared  the 
maidens,  daughters  of  the  rich,  clad  only  in  a  tunic  of 
finest  linen,  which  displayed  their  youthful  charms. 
They  carried  in  their  hands  as  offerings  dainty  willow 
baskets  covered  by  veils  which  hid  the  instruments  for 
the  sacrifice  to  the  goddess,  and  with  these  the  loaves 
made  of  new  wheat  and  the  handfuls  of  golden  ears 
which  were  to  be  deposited  on  her  altar.  To 
clearly  mark  the  dignity  of  the  rich  virgins,  slave  women 
marched  behind  them  bearing  their  sedan  chairs  inlaid 
with  ivory,  and  the  striped  silk  sunshades  with  gay 
colored  tassels  at  the  ends  of  the  staves. 

A  group  of  slave  women  chosen  for  their  beauty, 
with  Rhanto  in  the  premier  rank,  carried  on  their  heads 
great  amphorae  filled  with  honey  and  water  for  the  liba- 
tions in  honor  of  the  goddess.  Behind  them  marched  the 
musicians  and  singers  of  the  city,  crowned  with  roses, 
clad  in  flowing  white  vestments.  They  swept  the  lyre,  and 
played  the  flutes,  and  some  Greeks  from  Sonnica's 
pottery,  who  had  been  wandering  rhapsodists,  sang 
fragments  from  the  epic  of  the  Trojan  war  before  the 
barbarian  throngs,  who  scarcely  understood  them,  but 
admired  the  harmonious  cadence  of  Homer's  verses. 

The  people  pressed  forward,  craning  their  necks  to 
get  a  better  view  of  the  salii,  the  dancing  devotees  of 
Mars,  who  advanced  nude,  armed  with  sword  and 
shield.  Slung  from  the  stick  laid  across  their  shoulders, 
two  slaves  were  carrying  a  row  of  bronze  shields,  on 
which  another  slave  was  beating  with  a  mallet,  and 
keeping  time  to  these  harsh  sounds  the  salii  danced, 
making  feigned  attacks,  and  raining  blows  with  their 


154  S6NNICA 

swords  on  the  shield  of  the  pretended  adversary,  utter- 
ing ferocious  shouts,  and  also  performing  pantomimes  to 
recall  the  main  episodes  in  the  life  of  the  goddess  Min- 
erva. 

Behind  the  clamor,  which  set  the  streets  in  a  commo- 
tion, causing  the  populace  to  roar  with  enthusiasm  ex- 
cited by  the  warlike  display,  came  a  group  of  girls  hold- 
ing a  peplus  of  finest  texture  on  which  the  principal 
Grecian  women  of  the  city  had  embroidered  the  combat 
of  Minerva  with  the  Titans.  It  was  the  offering  which 
was  to  remain  in  the  new  temple  of  the  goddess  as  a 
perpetual  token  of  the  festival. 

Closing  the  procession,  the  sacred  squadron  advanced, 
the  richest  citizens,  mounted  on  fiery  horses,  which, 
with  their  evolutions  compelled  the  crowd  to  fall  back 
against  the  walls.  They  presented  a  brave  display, 
making  their  steeds  rear  on  their  hind  feet,  guided  only 
by  the  bridle,  riding  bareback,  pressing  their  knees  into 
the  horses'  ribs.  The  eldest  of  the  horsemen  wore 
huge  hats  in  the  Athenian  fashion.  The  young  men 
wore  the  winged  helmet  of  Mercury  or  went  bareheaded, 
their  short  curls  bound  by  a  fire-colored  ribbon.  Alorcus 
wore  the  crown  he  had  won,  and  Actaeon,  riding  beside 
him  on  one  of  the  Celtiberian's  horses,  smiled  at  the 
crowd,  which  regarded  him  with  a  certain  respect  as  if 
he  were  Sonnica's  husband  and  in  possession  of  her 
enormous  riches.  The  horsemen  gazed  with  pride  at  the 
swords  which  hung  at  their  sides  and  clanked  against  the 
flanks  of  their  horses,  and  they  took  in  with  a  glance 
the  high  Acropolis  and  the  city  lying  at  its  feet,  as  if 
expressing  confidence  in  their  strength,  and  faith  in  the 
tranquility  in  which  Saguntum  might  dwell,  sure  of  pro- 
tection. 


GREEK  AND  CELTIBERIAN          155 

The  crowd  fired  with  enthusiasm  by  the  brilliant  pro- 
cession, acclaimed  Sonnica.  Surrounded  by  her  slave 
women,  she  gazed  down  from  the  terrace  of  her  great 
building  in  the  ward  of  the  merchants  where  she  stored 
her  merchandise.  She  was  the  organizer,  the  one  who 
bore  the  cost  of  the  peplus  of  Minerva,  she  it  was  who 
had  transplanted  to  Saguntum  the  beautiful  festival  of 
Athens.  Fragrant  odors  from  the  censers  were  flung 
upon  the  air;  a  shower  of  roses  fell  from  the  windows 
upon  the  maidens ;  arms  glistened  in  the  sunlight,  and  in 
moments  when  the  people  were  silent  the  sounds  of 
lyres  and  flutes  floated  on  the  breeze,  accompanying 
with  soft  melodies  the  voices  of  the  Homeric  rhapso- 
dists. 

The  crude  Celtiberians,  gathered  to  witness  the  fes- 
tival, remained  silent  in  astonishment  at  the  procession 
which  dazzled  them  with  its  glitter  of  arms  and  jewels 
and  the  multicolored  confusion  of  costumes.  The  na- 
tives of  Saguntum  congratulated  their  fellow-citizens, 
the  Greeks,  admiring  the  splendor  of  the  festival. 

The  festivity  did  not  cease  with  the  passing  of  the 
brilliant  procession.  In  the  afternoon  the  diversion  of 
the  populace,  the  festival  of  the  poor,  would  take  place. 
The  race  of  the  flaming  torch  would  be  held  along  the 
walls.  Mariners,  potters,  laborers,  all  the  free  and 
poor  people  of  the  port  and  the  country  in  wild  career, 
would  carry  lighted  torches  in  memory  of  Prometheus. 
He  who  accomplished  the  feat  of  making  the  round  of 
the  city,  keeping  his  torch  still  burning,  would  be  de- 
clared winner;  those  who  let  theirs  go  out,  or  who 
traveled  slowly  to  protect  the  flames,  would  be  greeted 
with  hisses  and  blows  by  the  crowd.  Even  the  rich 


156  S6NNICA 

gave  vent  to  enthusiasm  over  this  popular  festival 
which  produced  so  much  merriment. 

Near  the  Acropolis,  when  the  procession  was  wholly 
within  its  walls,  Alorcus  discerned  among  the  people  a 
Celtiberian  mounted  on  a  horse  covered  with  foam  and 
sweat,  beckoning  him  to  approach. 

Alorcus,  turning  away  from  the  troop  of  horsemen, 
trotted  towards  him. 

"What  do  you  want?"  he  asked,  in  the  harsh  lan- 
guage of  his  country. 

"  I  am  one  of  your  tribe,  and  your  father  is  my  chief. 
I  have  just  reached  Saguntum  after  traveling  three 
days  to  say  to  you;  'Alorcus,  your  father  is  dying,  and 
he  calls  for  you.'  The  ancients  of  your  tribe  have  or- 
dered me  not  to  return  without  you." 

Actaeon  had  followed  his  friend,  breaking  away  from 
the  sacred  squadron,  and  witnessed  the  dialogue  without 
understanding  a  word,  although  he  guessed  something 
disagreeable  by  the  Celtiberian's  pale  face. 

"  Bad  news  ?"  he  asked  Alorcus. 

"  My  father  is  dying,  and  he  has  sent  for  me." 

"What  shall  you  do?" 

"  I  must  go  immediately.  My  people  demand  my 
presence." 

The  two  horsemen  began  the  descent  to  the  city,  fol- 
lowed by  the  Celtiberian  messenger. 

Actaeon  sympathized  with  his  comrade's  emotion.  At 
the  same  time  the  curiosity  of  the  traveler,  so  often 
aroused  by  the  Celtiberian's  tales,  was  awakened  within 
him. 

"Do  you  wish  me  to  accompany  you,  Alorcus?" 

The  young  man  received  the  proposition  with  a  look 


GREEK  AND  CELTIBERIAN          157 

of  gratitude.  Then  he  declined,  saying  that  he  must 
depart  in  haste;  the  Greek  might  wish  to  bid  farewell 
to  Sonnica;  perhaps  the  separation  would  be  a  grief  to 
her;  and  he  desired  to  start  on  the  journey  at  once. 

"  We  will  omit  the  farewell,"  said  the  Greek  in  his 
light,  happy  manner.  "  Sonnica  will  be  resigned  when 
I  make  known  to  her  through  a  slave  that  I  shall  be 
absent  for  some  days.  Do  you  wish  to  leave  immediate- 
ly? I  will  accompany  you.  I  am  curious  to  see  that 
land  with  its  strange  customs,  and  its  valiant  and  sturdy 
inhabitants,  of  whose  brave  deeds  you  have  so  often 
told  me." 

They  crossed  the  city.  The  streets  were  deserted. 
The  entire  population  had  gone  up  to  the  Acropolis. 
Actaeon  stopped  a  moment  before  Sonnica's  warehouses 
to  give  the  news  of  his  journey  to  her  slaves,  and  then 
he  followed  his  friend,  riding  forth  from  the  city. 

Alorcus  lodged  in  one  of  the  inns  in  the  suburb, 
an  enormous  edifice  with  extensive  stables  and  broad 
courtyards,  where  continuously  rang  the  diverse  tongues 
of  the  interior  of  the  Peninsula,  hoarsened  and  made 
strident  by  dickering  for  merchandise  and  the  barter- 
ing of  beasts.  Five  men  of  the  tribe  accompanied  the 
young  Celtiberian  during  his  stay  in  Saguntum,  taking 
care  of  his  horses  and  serving  him  as  free  domestics. 

On  learning  that  they  were  to  depart  these  sons  of  the 
mountains  shouted  with  joy.  They  had  languished  with 
inactivity  in  that  rich  and  fruitful  country  amid  customs 
which  they  detested,  and  they  made  preparations  for  the 
journey  in  haste. 

The  sun  was  setting  when  they  started.  Alorcus 
and  Actaeon  rode  in  advance,  their  mantles  thrown  over 


158  SoNNICA 

their  heads,  padded  linen  breastplates  to  protect  their 
chests  after  the  Celtiberian  fashion,  and  short  broad- 
swords, and  leather  shields  hanging  at  their  sides.  The 
five  servants  and  the  messenger  brought  up  the  rear, 
armed  with  long  lances,  driving  the  mules  laden  with 
Alorcus'  clothing  and  provisions. 

Throughout  the  afternoon  they  traveled  upon  the 
roads,  being  still  in  the  Saguntine  domain,  and  they 
passed  cultivated  and  fruitful  fields,  beautiful  villas 
and  compact  little  towns  clinging  close  around  the 
tower  which  served  them  as  defense.  When  night  closed 
in  they  camped  close  to  a  miserable  village  in  the  moun- 
tains. There  the  territory  of  Saguntum  ended.  Beyond 
lay  the  tribes  which  were  almost  constantly  warring 
with  the  people  of  the  coast. 

Next  morning  the  Greek  beheld  a  wholly  different 
landscape.  The  sea  and  the  green  plains  lay  behind  him, 
and  he  saw  only  mountains  and  more  mountains,  some 
covered  with  great  pine  forests,  others  red,  with  bluffs 
of  bluish  stone,  overgrown  with  dense  thickets  which, 
brushed  by  the  passing  caravan,  sent  forth  clouds  of 
frightened  birds,  while  terrified  rabbits  scampered  under 
the  very  horses'  hoofs. 

The  trails  were  not  the  work  of  man.  The  beasts 
laboriously  picked  their  way  in  the  tracks  left  by 
former  travelers;  they  often  twisted  around  masses  of 
rock  fallen  from  the  summits,  and  again  they  forded 
streams  which  ran  across  their  path.  They  skirted 
mountains;  they  climbed  heights  into  a  silent  region 
seldom  penetrated  by  man,  where  eagles  screamed,  flap- 
ping their  wings  in  anger  at  this  invasion.  They  rode 
down  into  gorges,  deep  crevices,  in  which  reigned  a 


GREEK  AND  CELTIBERIAN  159 

sepulchral  penumbra  and  where  buzzards  hopped  close 
by  the  dead  body  of  some  abandoned  animal. 

In  the  distance  they  saw  beside  a  stream  in  a  little 
valley,  a  group  of  mud-walled  cabins  with  straw-thatched 
roofs,  with  an  open  hole  to  let  light  into  the  dwelling 
and  to  give  exit  to  the  smoke.  The  women,  bony  and 
dressed  in  skins,  surrounded  by  naked  children,  came 
out  of  their  hovels  to  stare  at  the  passing  caravan,  with 
wild  expressions  of  alarm  as  if  the  approach  of  strangers 
could  only  bring  misfortune.  Others  younger,  bareleg- 
ged, with  ragged  aprons  hanging  from  their  waists,  were 
reaping  the  stunted  wheat,  which  barely  rose  like  a 
golden  film  above  the  sterile,  whitish  earth.  Girls, 
strong  and  ugly,  with  masculine  limbs,  came  down  from 
the  mountains,  bearing  great  bundles  of  fagots  on  their 
backs,  while  the  men  sat  in  the  shade  of  nut  and  oak 
trees  braiding  bull-tendons  for  making  their  shields, 
or  they  practiced  hurling,  darts  and  handling  the  lance, 
their  tangled  hair  falling  over  bronzed  and  bearded 
faces. 

On  the  highest  points  along  the  way  appeared  war- 
riors of  doubtful  aspect,  a  mixture  of  bandit  and  shep- 
herd, armed  with  long  lances  and  carrying  leather 
shields,  mounted  on  small  horses  with  long  and  filthy  hair. 
They  looked  the  company  over,  and  after  measuring  its 
strength,  and  seeing  it  would  be  difficult  to  conquer, 
they  turned  back  to  their  sheep  pasturing  in  the  deep 
mountain  gorges  filled  with  a  tangle  of  shrubbery.  The 
innumerable  flocks  of  lambs  and  herds  of  cattle,  accus- 
tomed to  the  wild  solitude,  fled  terrified  as  they  heard 
the  passing  of  the  caravan.  Bevies  of  quail  ran  in 
search  of  food  like  gray  ants  among  the  rosemary  and 


160  S6NNICA 

thyme  growing  on  the  slopes,  and  flew  away  at  the 
sound  of  the  horses'  hoofs,  whirring  like  a  hiss  over 
the  travelers'  heads. 

Acteeon  was  interested  in  the  rude  customs  of  these 
people.  The  cabins  were  made  of  red  adobe,  or  of  stones 
laid  in  clay,  and  roofed  with  branches.  The  women, 
uglier  and  more  energetic  than  the  men,  performed  the 
fatiguing  labor.  Only  boys  worked,  imitating  their 
mothers.  Young  men  early  grasped  the  lance,  and  under 
the  direction  of  their  elders  learned  to  fight  on  foot  or 
on  horseback;  they  broke  the  colts,  springing  to  the 
ground,  and  mounting  again  while  the  horse  was  running, 
and  they  trained  themselves  to  remain  kneeling  motion- 
less on  the  horses'  backs  with  their  arms  free  to  wield 
ihe  sword  and  shield. 

In  some  villages  the  party  was  received  with  tra- 
ditional hospitality,  and  was  welcomed  even  more  af- 
fectionately on  recognizing  Alorcus,  the  heir  of  En- 
dovellicus,  the  respected  chieftain  of  the  tribes  of  Bar- 
aeco  which  had  pastured  their  flocks  for  centuries  on  the 
banks  of  the  Jalon.  When  night  came  they  gave  up  to 
them  their  best  beds  of  woven  thongs  covered  with  fluffy 
dried  grasses ;  they  impaled  a  calf  on  a  spit,  turning 
it  before  an  enormous  bonfire,  for  regaling  the  caravan, 
and  during  the  journey  the  women  detained  them  at  the 
entrance  to  their  huts,  offering  them  in  coarse  earthen 
vessels  the  bitter  beer  brewed  in  the  valleys,  and  the 
bread  made  of  acorn  flour. 

Alorcus  explained  the  customs  of  his  people  to  the 
Athenian.  They  gathered  acorns,  their  chief  food,  ex- 
posing them  to  the  sun  until  well  dried.  They  husked 
and  ground  them,  and  stored  the  supply  of  flour  for 


GREEK  AND  CELTIBERIAN  161 

six  months.  This  bread,  with  game,  and  the  milk  of  their 
animals,  constituted  their  principal  food.  At  intervals 
pestilence  robbed  them  of  their  flocks,  the  crops  failed, 
and  hunger  decimated  the  tribes;  then  the  strong  de- 
voured the  weak.  Alorcus  remembered  hearing  this  from 
the  elders  of  his  tribe  as  having  occurred  in  remote  times 
when  Neton,  Autubel,  Nabi,  and  other  divinities  of 
the  land,  irritated  against  their  people,  had  sent  upon 
them  these  fearful  punishments. 

The  young  Celtiberian  continued  telling  of  the  cus- 
toms. Some  of  the  women  who  worked  in  the  fields  with 
so  much  vigor  had  perhaps  given  birth  to  a  child  the 
day  before.  As  soon  as  born  they  immersed  it  in  the 
nearest  river,  so  that  by  this  act,  which  in  many  cases 
caused  death,  it  would  grow  vigorous  and  insensible  to 
cold;  and  while  the  mother  resolutely  arose  and  con- 
tinued her  work,  the  husband  took  her  place  in  the  bed, 
lying  down  with  the  newly  born  child.  The  woman,  still 
barely  convalescent,  took  care  of  the  two,  surrounding 
the  hale  and  hearty  husband  with  comforts,  as  if  in 
gratitude  for  the  fruit  he  had  given  her. 

Several  times  the  caravan  on  its  march  passed  men 
lying  rigid  and  groaning  on  couches  of  herbs  gathered 
by  ^the  wayside.  Flies  buzzed  about  their  heads  in 
clouds ;  an  amphora  of  water  stood  within  their  reach.  A 
child  squatted  near  the  couch  brushing  away  the  insects 
with  a  branch.  They  were  sick  people  whom  their 
relatives  exposed  by  the  roadside  according  to  ancient 
custom,  partly  to  implore  the  clemency  of  the  divinities 
by  exhibiting  their  misery,  and  also  in  order  that  passing 
travelers  might  advise  a  remedy,  thus  transmitting  pre- 
scriptions from  distant  countries. 


162  S6NNICA 

The  strong  men  bathed  in  horse  urine  to  harden  their 
muscles.  Their  only  luxury  consisted  in  weapons.  They 
admired  as  priceless  jewels  the  bronze  swords  brought 
from  the  north  of  the  Peninsula,  and  those  of  steel  made 
by  the  people  of  Bilbilis  and  tempered  in  the  sands  of 
their  famous  river.  The  flexible  cuirasses,  formed  by 
several  thicknesses  of  superposed  linen,  or  those  of 
leather,  decorated  with  nails,  were  defensive  arms  which 
the  Celtiberian  never  laid  aside,  not  even  when  in  bed. 
They  slept  dressed  in  the  sagum,  the  metal  greaves  on 
their  legs,  and  their  weapons  within  reach  of  the  hand, 
ready  to  fight  the  instant  the  slightest  alarm  might  dis- 
turb their  sleep. 

After  three  days  of  travel  the  caravan  entered  the 
territory  belonging  to  the  tribes  of  Alorcus.  The  moun- 
tains separated  on  both  sides  of  the  Jalon,  forming 
smiling  valleys  covered  by  tall  grasses,  through  which 
ran  herds  of  wild  horses  with  curling  manes  and  waving 
tails.  The  women  came  out  of  the  villages  to  greet 
Alorcus,  and  the  men,  grasping  lances,  mounted  their 
horses  and  joined  the  caravan.  In  the  first  village  where 
they  stopped  an  old  man  told  Alorcus  that  his  father,  the 
powerful  Endovellicus,  was  dying,  and  in  the  next 
through  which  they  passed  in  a  few  hours,  he  heard  that 
the  great  chieftain  had  died  at  daybreak. 

All  the  warriors  of  the  tribe,  herders  and  farmers, 
followed  them  on  horseback.  When  they  reached  the 
village  where  the  kinglet  had  lived,  the  escort  had 
grown  to  a  small  army. 

In  the  doorway  of  the  paternal  house,  a  low  structure 
of  red  stones  roofed  with  logs,  Alorcus  saw  his  sisters 
in  dresses  made  of  flowers  and  wearing  around  their  necks 


GREEK  AND  CELTIBERIAN          163 

and  over  their  heads  cage-like  collars  from  the  bars  of 
which  hung  mourning  veils. 

The  sisters  of  Alorcus,  as  well  as  the  women  who  ac- 
companied them,  the  wives  of  the  chief  warriors  of  the 
tribe,  hid  their  grief  at  the  death  of  the  chieftain,  and 
smiled  as  if  it  were  the  eve  of  a  festival.  Old  age  was 
a  disgrace  among  the  Celtiberians,  who  held  life  in  con- 
tempt, and  fought  for  diversion  when  not  engaged  in  war. 
To  die  in  bed  was  deemed  dishonorable,  and  the  only 
thing  which  somewhat  disturbed  the  serenity  of  the 
family  of  Endovellicus  was  that  so  famous  a  warrior, 
the  terror  of  neighboring  clans,  °hould  have  died  with 
white  hair,  his  life  flickering  out  like  a  wasted  torch, 
after  having  galloped  his  steed  through  so  many  combats, 
hurling  his  sword  like  a  thunderbolt  upon  the  enemy. 

Actaeon's  dress  and  his  countenance  attracted  the 
curious  gaze  of  all  the  tribe.  Many  of  the  Celtiberians 
had  never  seen  a  Greek,  and  they  looked  upon  this  one 
with  hostile  eyes,  recalling  the  clever  tricks  and  sharp 
dealings  of  the  Hellenic  merchants  experienced  by  their 
brethren  when  they  went  down  to  Saguntum  to  sell 
silver  from  the  mines. 

Alorcus  reassured  his  people. 

"  He  is  my  brother,"  he  said,  in  the  language  of  the 
country.  "  We  have  dwelt  together  in  Saguntum.  Be- 
sides, he  is  not  a  native  of  that  city.  He  is  from  very 
far  away,  from  a  land  where  the  men  are  almost  gods, 
and  he  has  journeyed  hither  with  me  to  become  ac- 
quainted with  you." 

The  women  gazed  at  Actaeon  in  astonishment  on 
hearing  the  almost  divine  origin  which  Alorcus  attri- 
buted to  him. 


164  S6NNICA 

The  members  of  the  caravan  had  dismounted,  and 
entered  the  immense  log  structure  which  had  served  the 
chief  for  a  palace.  A  vast  room  blackened  by  smoke, 
lighted  only  by  narrow  apertures  like  loop-holes,  served 
as  a  place  of  reunion  and  council  for  the  warriors  of  the 
tribe.  At  one  end  was  an  enormous  stone,  upon 
which  was  burning  a  wood  fire,  while  a  great  opening 
in  the  roof  did  service  as  a  chimney.  Set  in  one  wall 
was  a  stone  slab,  with  the  figure  of  the  divinity  of  the 
tribe  strangling  two  lions  rudely  sculptured  upon  it. 
Hung  along  the  walls  were  lances  and  shields,  skins  of 
wild  beasts,  bleached  craniums  and  twisted  horns  of 
large  game.  A  stone  bench  ran  along  the  sides  of  the 
room  making  way  near  the  fireplace  for  a  high  masonry 
seat  covered  by  a  bear  skin.  Here  the  chieftain  was 
accustomed  to  sit. 

The  warriors  took  their  places  on  the  bench  as  they 
entered. 

One  old  man  taking  Alorcus  by  the  hand,  guided  him 
to  a  place  of  honor. 

"  Sit  here,  son  of  Endovellicus.  You  are  his  only 
heir  and  you  shall  be  our  chief.  May  his  valor  and  his 
prudence  dwell  in  you." 

The  other  warriors  assented  to  the  elder's  words  with 
grave  nods  of  approval. 

"Where  is  my  father's  body?"  asked  Alorcus,  filled 
with  emotion  by  the  simple  ceremony. 

"  Since  the  sun  set  it  has  slept  in  the  meadow  where 
you  learned  to  break  horses  and  to  use  arms.  The  young 
men  of  the  tribe  are  keeping  guard  over  it.  The  ob- 
sequies worthy  of  so  great  a  chief  will  take  place  at 


GREEK  AND  CELTIBERIAN          165 

sunrise.    Then,  as  our  new  king,  you  will  give  us  counsel 
upon  the  great  affairs  of  the  tribe." 

Alorcus  compelled  the  Greek  to  sit  beside  him.  The 
women  filed  in  with  torches,  since  no  more  than  a  dim 
twilight  was  produced  by  the  pale,  diffused  glow  filter- 
ing through  the  narrow  slits  in  the  wall.  The  sisters 
of  Alorcus,  with  lowered  eyes,  their  flowery  tunics 
floating  about  their  strong,  virginal  forms,  passed  before 
the  warriors,  offering  drinking  horns  filled  with  metheg- 
lin  and  beer.  The  men  imbibed  enormously  without 
losing  self-control.  They  recounted  the  deeds  of  En- 
dovellicus  as  if  he  had  died  many  years  before,  and  they 
told  of  the  great  enterprises  in  which  his  successor  would 
surely  lead  them  hinting  again  and  again,  in  mysterious 
words,  at  a  subject  with  which  they  must  deal  in  the 
council  on  the  morrow. 

Supper  was  brought.  The  Celtiberians  were  not  ac- 
customed to  eating  at  table  like  the  people  of  the  coast. 
They  remained  seated  on  the  stone  bench.  The  women 
placed  beside  them  a  wheaten  loaf,  instead  of  the  acorn 
bread  which  was  commonly  eaten,  this  being  an  extraor- 
dinary feast.  Others  passed  a  great  vessel  filled  with 
chunks  of  roasted  meat  still  dripping  blood,  and  each 
warrior  speared  a  piece  with  the  point  of  his  knife. 
Horns  overflowing  with  liquor  circulated  from  hand  to 
hand,  and  Actaeon  accepted  with  graceful  mien  what- 
ever his  neighbors,  in  hospitable  phrase  which  he  could 
not  understand,  offered  him. 

Supper  being  ended,  the  young  men  of  the  tribe 
came  in  with  trumpets  and  flutes,  and  began  to  play  a 
bizarre  air  which  combined  the  joy  of  the  chase  with 
the  fury  of  their  charge  upon  the  enemy  in  battle.  The 


166  S6NNICA 

guests  were  aroused,  and  the  youngest  among  them, 
springing  into  the  centre  of  the  room,  began  to  dance 
with  gymnastic  freedom.  It  was  the  dance  with  which 
the  Celtiberians  terminated  their  banquets,  a  violent 
exercise  which  put  their  muscles  to  the  test,  and  caused 
them  to  regain  their  spirit  even  in  moments  of  greatest 
depression. 

Long  before  midnight  the  warriors  retired,  leaving 
Alorcus  and  Actaeon  alone  in  the  great  smoke-filled  room, 
where  sputtered  the  torches,  tingeing  the  barbaric  deco- 
rations on  the  walls  with  a  blood-like  hue.  They  slept 
on  couches  of  aromatic  herbs,  without  removing  their 
clothing,  their  weapons  near  them,  as  slept  all  the 
tribe,  ever  fearful  of  attack  from  neighbors  tempted  bj 
the  multitude  of  their  flocks. 

At  daybreak  they  went  down  to  the  meadow  where  the 
body  of  Endovellicus  was  exposed.  The  whole  tribe 
was  gathered  on  the  plain  near  the  river ;  the  young  men 
on  horseback  with  their  lances,  and  in  full  armor;  the 
old  men  seated  in  the  shade  of  the  oak  trees ;  the  women 
and  children  near  the  pyre  of  logs  upon  which  lay  the 
corpse  of  their  chief. 

Endovellicus  was  arrayed  in  his  war  costume.  His 
faded  hair  escaped  beneath  the  borders  of  his  triple- 
crested  helmet;  his  silvery  beard  rested  upon  a  cuirass 
of  bronze  scales ;  his  muscular  arms  were  naked,  and  his 
hands  were  clasped  over  the  Celtiberian  sword,  short 
and  slender,  with  broadened  point,  and  his  legs  were 
bound  by  the  broad  straps  of  his  sandals.  His  shield, 
engraved  with  a  representation  of  the  gods  of  the  tribe 
struggling  with  two  lions,  served  as  a  cushion  for  his 
bead. 


GREEK  AND  CELTIBERIAN  167 

When  the  two  young  men  arrived  the  same  elder 
who  had  spoken  to  Alorcus  the  day  before  advanced. 
He  was  the  wisest  of  the  tribe,  and  had  counselled  En- 
dovellicus  many  times  before  undertaking  audacious  ex- 
peditions. Under  extraordinary  circumstances  he  had 
laid  open  with  his  sacred  knife  the  viscera  of  his  pris- 
oners to  read  the  future  in  the  quiverings  of  their  en- 
trails. Again  he  had  cut  off  the  hands  of  the  con- 
quered to  dedicate  them  to  the  god  of  the  tribe,  nailing 
them  to  the  chieftain's  door  to  placate  the  divinity. 
Mystery  used  him  as  a  mouthpiece  and  all  the  tribe 
regarded  him  with  awe  and  fear,  as  if  he  were  capable 
of  changing  the  course  of  the  sun  and  of  destroying 
in  a  night  the  crops  of  an  enemy. 

"  Advance,  son  of  Endovellicus !"  he  said  solemnly. 
"  Look  upon  your  people  who  choose  you  as  most  valiant 
and  most  worthy  to  succeed  your  father!" 

He  questioned  the  assemblage  with  a  look,  and  the 
warriors  answered  by  beating  on  their  shields,  uttering 
the  same  shouts  with  which  they  infuriated  themselves 
on  plunging  into  battle. 

"  You  have  become  our  king !"  continued  the  elder. 
"  You  shall  be  father  and  guardian  of  your  people !  That 
you  may  fulfill  your  mission  receive  the  great  inheritance 
of  your  father !  Bring  hither  the  shield." 

Two  young  men  climbed  to  the  top  of  the  pyre,  and 
raising  Endovellicus'  head,  they  brought  down  the  shield 
engraved  with  the  image  of  the  god,  and  delivered  it 
to  Alorcus. 

"With  this  shield,"  continued  the  venerable  warrior, 
"you  shall  protect  your  people  from  the  blows  of  the 
enemy.  Bring  hither  the  sword!" 


168  S6NNICA 

The  young  men  brought  down  the  sword,  drawing  it 
forth  from  the  stiff  fingers  of  Endovellicus. 

"  Bind  it  upon  you,  Alorcus,"  continued  the  wizard. 
"  With  this  you  shall  defend  us,  and  may  it  fall  like  a 
thunderbolt  wherever  the  destiny  of  your  people  points ! 
Advance,  youthful  king!" 

Guided  by  the  elder,  Alorcus  stepped  forward  to  the 
pyre  upon  which  his  father  lay.  He  turned  away  his  face 
that  he  might  not  behold  the  body,  fearing  an  out- 
burst of  grief  which  would  force  him  to  shed  tears 
before  his  tribe. 

"  Swear  by  Neton,  by  Autubel,  by  Nabi,  by  Caulece, 
by  all  the  gods  of  our  tribe,  and  of  all  the  tribes  that 
people  this  earth  and  hate  the  foreigners  who  one  day 
came  from  across  the  sea  to  rob  us  of  our  riches.  Swear 
to  be  faithful  to  your  people  and  ever  to  obey  the  coun- 
sels of  the  warriors  of  your  tribe!  Swear  it  by  the 
body  of  your  father,  which  soon  will  be  only  ashes!" 

Alorcus  took  the  oath,  and  the  warriors  pounded  upon 
their  shields  again,  uttering  acclamations  of  joy. 

The  old  warrior,  with  extraordinary  vigor,  climbed 
upon  the  logs  and  searched  beneath  the  cuirass  of  the 
corpse. 

"  Take  this,  Alorcus !"  he  said,  on  descending.  He 
handed  the  new  chieftain  a  slender  copper  chain  from 
which  hung  a  disk-like  case  of  the  same  metal.  "This 
is  the  greatest  inheritance  from  your  father — the  manu- 
mission which  accompanied  him  at  all  times.  There  is 
not  a  warrior  in  Celtiberia  who  does  not  carry  upon  his 
person  his  poison  so  that  he  may  die  rather  than  become 
the  slave  of  the  conqueror.  I  prepared  this  for  your 
father.  I  spent  a  whole  moon  extracting  it  from  the 


GREEK  AND  CELTIBERIAN  169 

wild  apium,  and  one  drop  of  it  will  kill  like  a  lightning 
flash.  If  some  day  you  fall  vanquished,  drink  and  die 
before  your  people  behdld  their  chieftain  with  a  hand 
stricken  off  and  serving  the  enemy  as  a  slave." 

Alorcus  slipped  the  chain  over  his  head,  concealing 
the  heirloom  in  his  breast.  Then  he  returned  to  Actseon, 
beneath  the  oaks  where  the  ancients  of  the  tribe  were 
grouped. 

The  young  men  in  the  meadow,  apprentices  in  the 
art  of  warfare,  ran  around  the  pyre  with  lighted  torches. 
The  flaming  candlewood  licked  the  resinous  logs,  and 
soon  the  smoke  and  flames  began  to  enwrap  the  corpse. 

The  warriors  most  famous  for  valor  and  strength  ad- 
vanced, making  their  horses  caracole  round  about  the 
fire. 

Waving  their  lances,  they  proclaimed  with  hoarse 
cries  the  deeds  of  the  departed  chief,  the  body  of  the 
tribe  joining  in  the  acclamation.  They  related  the  in- 
numerable combats  from  which  he  had  come  forth  vic- 
tor; the  audacious  expeditions  on  which  he  had  caught 
the  enemy  off  their  guard  at  night,  burning  their  dwell- 
ings, and  leading  off  interminable  strings  of  captives; 
the  flocks  captured,  for  which  there  was  barely  pas- 
ture-ground in  the  territories  belonging  to  the  tribe;  his 
colossal  strength;  the  quickness  with  which  he  mastered 
the  wildest  colt;  and  the  prudence  which  he  demon- 
strated in  all  his  counsels. 

"  He  covered  the  doors  of  our  houses  with  the  hands 
of  our  enemies,"  shouted  a  warrior,  galloping  like  a 
•phantom  through  the  smoke  of  the  funeral  pyre. 

The  multitude  shouted  with  an  intonation  of  lament. 
"  Endovellicus !  Endovellicus !" 


170  S6NNICA 

"All  the  tribes  feared  him,  and  his  name  was  re- 
spected like  that  of  a  god !" 

The  multitude  repeated  the  name  of  the  chief  over 
and  over,  as  if  weeping. 

"  With  his  hands  of  stone  he  would  fell  the  bull  in 
full  career,  and  smite  off  the  head  of  the  enemy  with  a 
stroke  of  his  sword!" 

"  Endovellicus !     Endovellicus !" 

Thus  proceeded  the  last  rites  to  the  chieftain.  The 
flames  from  the  bier  rose  straight  into  the  heavens 
clouding  the  blue  sky  with  its  pall  of  smoke,  and  the 
mourners  tireless  in  heralding  the  deeds  of  their  leader, 
passed  and  repassed  like  black  demons  crowned  with 
sparks,  making  their  horses  leap  over  the  flaming  wood. 
The  funeral  pyre  fell  overwhelming  the  remains  of 
Endovellicus  with  ashes  and  charring  logs,  while  around 
the  embers  of  the  fire  commenced  the  combat  in  honor 
of  the  dead. 

The  warriors  advanced  on  horseback  with  slack  rein, 
the  shield  held  before  the  breast,  the  sword  raised 
high,  and  they  fought  like  irreconcilable  enemies.  The 
closest  comrades,  brothers  at  arms,  dealt  each  other  tre- 
mendous blows,  with  the  enthusiasm  of  a  people  which 
turns  fighting  into  a  diversion.  They  must  shed  blood 
to  glorify  the  memory  of  the  deceased  with  greater 
pomp.  Horses  fell  at  the  shock  of  the  encounter  and 
the  riders  continued  the  struggle  on  foot,  wrestling 
body  to  body,  making  the  shields  resound  with  the  force 
of  the  blows.  When  some  of  the  warriors  had  retired 
covered  with  blood,  and  the  combat  had  assumed  the 
character  of  a  general  battle,  in  which,  aroused  by  the 
spectacle,  the  women  and  children  participated,  Alorcus 


GREEK  AND  CELTIBERIAN          171 

ordered  the  trumpets  to  sound  the  retreat,  and  he  hurled 
himself  among  the  combatants  to  separate  the  more 
tenacious. 

Thus  ended  the  funeral  rites.  The  slaves  of  the 
tribe  flung  the  remnants  of  the  bonfire  into  a  ditch, 
and  the  crowd,  seeing  the  festival  over,  before  retiring 
to  their  villages,  held  aloft  once  more  their  horns  brim- 
ming with  beer,  to  drink  to  the  honor  of  the  new-made 
king. 

The  principal  warriors  turned  toward  the  dwelling 
of  the  chief  to  hold  council. 

The  Athenian  traveled  beside  Alorcus,  manifesting 
astonishment,  at  the  barbaric  and  warlike  customs  of  the 
Celtiberians.  As  he  could  not  understand  their  lan- 
guage, the  warriors  were  not  alarmed  at  seeing  him  take 
a  seat  in  the  council  hall  near  their  new  chieftain. 

The  wizard  discoursed  at  length  to  Alorcus,  amid 
the  respectful  silence  of  the  warriors.  Actaeon  under- 
stood that  he  was  giving  an  account  of  extraordinary 
events  which  had  occurred  in  the  tribe  a  few  days  before 
the  arrival  of  the  new  king.  Perhaps  some  call  from 
friendly  tribes,  some  fruitful  expedition  planned  by 
the  more  venturesome. 

He  saw  the  face  of  Alorcus  darken,  as  if  they  were 
telling  him  something  painful,  repugnant  to  his  feelings. 
The  assemblage  looked  at  him  fixedly,  betraying  in  their 
eyes  enthusiasm  and  agreement  with  the  old  man's  words. 
Alorcus  recovered  his  composure,  listening  calmly  to 
the  wizard,  and  when  the  latter  ceased  talking,  after  a 
long  pause,  he  spoke  a  few  words  and  with  his  head 
made  a  gesture  of  assent. 


172  SoNNICA 

His  rude  countrymen  received  the  chieftain's  ac- 
ceptance with  ardor,  and  rushed  from  the  house  in 
vehement  haste  to  carry  the  news  to  those  outside. 

When  the  Greek  and  the  Celtiberian  were  left  alone, 
the  latter  said  sadly: 

"  Actaeon,  tomorrow  I  set  out  with  my  people.  I  be- 
gin to  serve  as  chieftain  of  the  tribe.  I  must  lead  it  to 
combat." 

"May  I  accompany  you ?" 

"  No.  I  know  not  where  we  are  going.  My  father 
had  a  powerful  ally  whom  I  dare  not  name  to  you,  and 
this  ally  calls  me  without  saying  why.  The  whole 
tribe  displays  tremendous  enthusiasm  for  this  expedi- 
tion. 

After  a  pause  Alorcus  added: 

"  You  are  welcome  to  stay  here  as  long  as  you  wish. 
My  sisters  will  obey  you  as  if  you  were  Alorcus  himself." 

"  No ;  since  you  will  not  be  here,  nothing  remains 
for  me  to  do.  I  have  seen  enough  in  one  day  to  know 
the  Celtiberians.  I  will  return  to  Saguntum." 

"  Happy  man,  who  can  return  to  the  Grecian  life, 
to  Sonnica's  banquets,  to  the  sweet  peace  of  those  mer- 
chants !  May  it  never  be  disturbed,  and  may  I  be  able 
to  return  there  as  a  friend!" 

The  two  preserved  a  long  silence,  as  if  black  thoughts 
were  whirling  through  their  minds. 

"  You  will  return  from  this  expedition  loaded  down 
with  riches,"  said  the  Greek,  "  and  you  will  come  back 
to  Saguntum  to  spend  them  joyously." 

"  May  it  be  thus !"  murmured  Alorcus.  "  But  I  feel 
a  presentiment  that  we  shall  never  meet  again,  Actaeon; 
or,  if  we  meet,  it  will  be  to  curse  the  gods  that  we  should 


GREEK  AND  CELTIBERIAN 


ever  have  known  each  other.  I  go  ignorant  of  my  des- 
tination, and  perhaps  I  must  march  against  what  I  most 
love." 

They  said  no  more;  they  feared  to  give  expression  to 
their  thoughts. 

Greek  and  Celtiberian  embraced  tenderly.  Then, 
after  a  sorrowful  farewell,  they  kissed  each  other  on  the 
eyes  in  sign  of  fraternal  friendship. 


CHAPTER  V. 

INVASION 

SONNICA  feared  that  she  had  lost  Actaeon  forever.  His 
sudden  departure  seemed  the  caprice  of  a  fickle  Athenian 
— of  an  eternal  wanderer,  driven  by  the  fever  of  seeing 
new  lands.  Only  the  gods  could  tell  where  that  bird 
of  passage  might  fly  after  his  visit  to  Celtiberia!  Per- 
haps he  would  remain  with  Alorcus;  perhaps  he  would 
go  to  war  along  with  those  barbarians;  perhaps,  capti- 
vated by  his  knowledge  and  cleverness,  they  would  go 
so  far  as  to  give  him  a  kingdom. 

Sonnica  doubted  that  the  Athenian  would  ever  return. 
Her  short  springtime  of  love  had  been  like  the  fugitive 
joy  of  the  women  adored  by  the  gods  when  they  had 
come  down  to  earth.  She  who  used  to  be  so  unfeeling 
as  to  mock  at  affection,  now  spent  the  days  weeping  on 
her  couch,  or  wandering  by  night  like  a  shade  through 
the  gardens,  stopping  in  the  grotto  where  the  Greek  had 
given  her  his  first  caress.  The  slaves  wondered  at  the 
harsh  and  capricious  temper  of  their  mistress,  who  one 
moment  groaned  like  a  child,  and  the  next,  as  if  fired 
with  sudden  cruelty,  ordered  punishments  for  them  all; 
but,  without  warning,  Actaeon  presented  himself  before 
her  villa  one  morning,  riding  a  dusty,  sweaty  horse. 
He  dismissed  the  ferocious  featured  barbarians  who 
had  served  him  as  bodyguard,  and  ran  with  outstretched 

174 


INVASION  175 

arms  toward  the  tremulous  Sonnica.  The  whole  of  her 
immense  dominions  seemed  resuscitated;  the  mistress 
smiled;  the  garden  bloomed  more  beautifully;  on  the 
terrace  shone  the  plumage  of  the  rare  birds  with  greater 
splendor;  the  instruments  of  the  flute  players  sounded 
more  joyful,  and  to  the  slaves,  freed  now  from  punish- 
ment, the  air  seemed  sweeter  and  the  sky  more  blue. 

Sonnica's  villa  reawoke  to  its  merry  life,  as  if  its 
owner  had  risen  from  the  dead.  The  nights  were  devoted 
to  feasting  in  the  great  triclinium;  Sonnica's  friends, 
the  young  gallants,  accepted  her  invitations,  and  even 
Euphobias,  the  philosopher,  reached  his  place  at  the 
table  without  having  to  fight  his  way  through  the  blows 
of  her  slaves. 

Sonnica  was  radiant,  clinging  to  Actaeon  and  listening 
to  his  words  as  to  sweet  music.  The  guests  urged  him  to 
relate  the  story  of  his  adventures  among  the  Celtiber- 
ians,  wondering  at  the  customs  of  the  tribes  over  which 
Alorcus  reigned.  Euphobias,  the  parasite,  did  not  con- 
ceal his  satisfaction  at  possessing  so  powerful  a  friend, 
and  he  declared  that  he  would  go  to  his  kingdom  to  live 
awhile  in  comfort,  without  having  to  beg  his  bread 
from  the  merchants  of  Saguntum.  Love's  springtime 
returned  for  the  Athenian.  He  spent  his  days  at  the 
villa,  lying  at  Sonnica's  feet,  watching  her  spin  the 
bright  colored  wool  from  the  distaff  or  give  the  finish- 
ing touches  to  her  toilette,  assisted  by  her  slaves.  At 
the  close  of  day  they  strolled  through  the  garden,  and 
night  surprised  them  in  the  grotto,  in  fond  embrace, 
listening  to  the  song  of  the  water  falling  into  the  ala- 
baster basin  with  sweet,  monotonous  melody. 

Now  and  again  Acteon  went  to  the  city  in  the  morn- 


176  S6NNICA 

ing  to  stroll  through  the  porticos  of  the  Forum  listening 
to  the  newsmongers  with  the  curiosity  of  a  Greek  ac- 
customed to  the  grumblings  in  the  Agora.  He  noticed 
extraordinary  stir  in  the  great  Saguntine  market- 
square.  The  idle  talked  of  war;  the  more  bellicose  re- 
counted with  exaggeration  their  achievements  on  the 
last  expedition  against  the  Turdetani,  and  the  tran- 
quil merchants  left  their  counters  to  ask  for  news, 
accepting  with  gestures  of  despair  the  possibility  of  a 
coming  struggle.  As  Actaeon  came  into  Saguntum  he 
saw  on  the  wall  hundreds  of  slaves  repairing  the  merlons 
worn  by  time,  and  filled  with  cracks  which  many  years 
of  peace  had  opened  in  them. 

Mopsus,  the  archer,  put  him  in  touch  with  the  delib- 
erations of  the  elders.  Hannibal  had  sent  an  emissary 
with  an  ultimatum  to  return  to  the  Turdetani  the  con- 
quered territories  and  the  booty  taken  during  their  last 
expedition.  The  African  threatened  with  insufferable 
arrogance,  and  the  Saguntine  Republic  had  answered 
with  scorn,  refusing  to  listen  to  his  commands.  Sagun- 
tum would  only  obey  its  strong  ally  Rome,  and,  secure 
in  her  protection,  she  looked  with  indifference  upon  the 
threats  of  the  Carthaginian.  However,  as  war  seemed 
inevitable,  and  as  all  stood  in  fear  of  the  youth  and  au- 
dacious character  of  Hannibal,  two  senators  had  em- 
barked some  days  before  at  the  port  of  Saguntum,  set- 
ting sail  for  the  coasts  of  Italy  to  relate  what  had  taken 
place,  soliciting  the  protection  of  the  Roman  Senate. 

This  news  circulated  confusedly  through  the  Forum, 
and  the  crowd  jested  at  Hannibal  as  an  impetuous 
youth  who  needed  a  lesson.  He  might  come  against 
Saguntum  whenever  he  wished.  These  Carthaginians 


INVASION  177 

were  the  very  same  who  had  been  driven  out  of  Sicily, 
the  same  who  had  been  compelled  to  abandon  the 
coasts  of  Magna  Grecia,  being  expelled  by  the  Romans, 
who  had  then  raised  their  own  city  beside  the  ruin!  If 
they  had  achieved  victories  afterward  in  Iberia  it  was 
only  against  barbarian  tribes  ignorant  of  the  art  of 
warfare,  who  fell  victims  to  their  cunning!  When  they 
attacked  Saguntum  they  would  encounter  a  worthier 
enemy,  and  Rome,  the  powerful  ally,  would  fall  upon 
their  rear  and  exterminate  them! 

These  ideas  infuriated  the  city. 

News  came  that  Hannibal  had  set  forth  upon  his 
campaign  and  was  slowly  approaching,  and  with  such 
tidings  a  gust  of  war  seemed  to  sweep  over  Saguntum 
inflaming  the  minds  of  the  most  prudent.  The  peace- 
loving  merchants  with  the  mute  choler  of  pacific-minded 
men  who  see  their  possessions  endangered,  stood  in  the 
doorways  of  their  shops  cleaning  the  rust  from  old  arms, 
or  they  went  down  to  the  river  bank  to  practise  using 
them,  mingling  with  the  young  men,  who,  since  sunrise 
had  been  making  their  horses  caracole,  gaining  skill 
in  the  management  of  the  lance,  or  improving  themselves 
in  archery  under  the  direction  of  Mopsus. 

Actseon  now  began  to  spend  his  days  away  from  the 
villa,  deaf  to  the  prayers  of  Sonnica,  who  longed  to  have 
him  ever  near  her.  The  Senate  had  given  him  command 
of  the  peltasts,  the  light  infantry,  and  at  the  head  of 
some  hundreds  of  young  men,  barefooted  and  with  no 
other  defensive  arm  than  a  cuirass  of  wool  and  a  shield 
of  osiers,  he  ran  along  the  river  bank,  teaching  them  to 
hurl  darts  without  stopping  in  their  race,  to  wound  an 


178  S6NNICA 

enemy  as  they  passed  swiftly  by  his  side,  without  giving 
him  time  to  respond  with  another  blow. 

This  exercise  over,  the  perspiring  youths  dived  into 
the  river  to  refresh  themselves  with  a  swim,  while  the 
Greek  slowly  returned  to  the  villa,  lingering  in  the  most 
smiling  spots  of  the  domain. 

One  afternoon  the  Athenian  met  Erotion,  the  potter, 
at  the  foot  of  an  enormous  cherry  tree,  gazing  into  the 
tallest  branches,  from  which  fell  a  shower  of  red  fruit 
shaken  down  by  an  invisible  hand.  They  had  not  met 
since  the  day  when  Actaeon  surprised  him  modeling 
before  the  nude  shepherdess. 

The  youth  greeted  the  Greek  with  a  smile. 

"  Are  you  no  longer  busy  ?"  asked  Actaeon  with  pater- 
nal kindness.  "Have  you  finished  your  work?" 

The  boy  answered  with  a  gesture  of  indifference: 
"  My  work !  Do  not  laugh  at  m3,  Greek.  I  have  noth- 
ing to  do." 

"  And  where  is  Rhanto?" 

"  She  is  in  the  top  of  that  tree,  gathering  the  finest 
cherries  for  me.  She  climbs  like  a  wood-nymph  and  she 
will  not  let  me  go  with  her.  She  is  afraid  I  shall  hurt 
myself." 

The  branches  of  the  cherry  tree  shook,  and  the  shep- 
herdess descended,  agile  as  a  squirrel,  her  limbs  bare,  her 
skirt  gathered  up  and  filled  with  cherries.  She  and  her 
lover  devoured  them  amid  laughter,  their  lips  ruddy 
with  the  crimson  fruit- juice,  and  they  decorated  each 
other's  hair  or  hung  yokes  of  cherries  over  their  ears, 
forming  picturesque  ruby-colored  earrings. 

Actaeon  smiled  at  the  strong,  handsome  young  folks 
who  ever  sought  each  other's  company  and  frolicked 


INVASION  179 

as  if  they  were  in  the  heart  of  the  desert,  giving  no 
heed  to  the  danger  threatening  the  city. 

"But  what  about  your  art?"  he  asked. 

Erotion  and  Rhanto  laughed  at  the  recollection. 

"  I  smashed  the  figure  to  pieces,"  said  the  boy. 
"  I  broke  the  clay  into  fragments,  and  I  have  decided 
to  touch  no  other  than  that  in  the  pottery — when  I 
make  up  my  mind  to  return  there." 

He  flung  his  arms  around  the  shepherdess  and  rested 
his  head  upon  her  shoulder,  rubbing  his  cheek  against 
her  neck  with  an  almost  feline  caress. 

"  Why  should  I  work  ?"  he  added.  "  I  spent  many 
days  kneeling  before  that  accursed  clay,  struggling  to 
make  it  take  on  the  form  of  her  body;  but  it  is  useless. 
Clay  is  clay,  and  it  cannot  become  living  substance.  When 
the  soft  flesh  of  my  Rhanto  is  within  reach  of  my  hand, 
it  is  folly  to  grow  desperate  trying  to  mold  earth  into 
a  semblance  of  her  life.  I  wish  to  dream  no  more, 
Athenian.  I  will  be  content  with  what  I  have." 

With  sublime  indifference  he  caressed  his  playmate 
in  Actaeon's  presence. 

"  One  day,"  continued  the  boy,  "  I  saw  clearly,  and 
I  understood  the  truth.  Rhanto  stood  before  me. 
Blinded  by  ambition  I  had  seen  in  her  only  the  model, 
but  that  day  I  beheld  the  woman.  Why  seek  glory 
when  I  had  love  before  me !  Even  though  I  should  mould 
a  great  statue,  what  should  I  gain?  That  people  should 
say,  after  I  ain  dead,  '  Erotion  the  Saguntine  made  this.' 
I  should  not  hear  it — after  having  spent  my  life  work- 
ing and  suffering.  No;  let  us  live  and  love.  That  day 
I  kicked  the  statue  to  pieces,  and  I  embraced  Rhanto 
with  an  enthusiasm  of  joy.  Loving  each  other  is  better 


180  S6NNICA 

than  wasting  time  over  clay  puppets.  Is  not  that  so, 
Rhanto?" 

They  kissed  each  other  again,  heedless  of  the  pres- 
ence of  the  Greek.  Acteon  observed  a  transformation 
in  the  pair,  both  in  the  frank  devotion  of  the  boy,  and  in 
the  glow  in  the  eyes  of  the  shepherdess.  The  ardor  of 
love  seemed  to  have  made  him  more  manly,  and  to  have 
given  her  a  suave  and  tender  grace,  a  sweet  abandon 
which  she  had  lacked  before. 

"  I  have  forgotten  art,  and  now  we  are  happy,"  con- 
tinued the  boy.  "  It  would  have  been  madness  to  have 
run  off  to  Greece,  leaving  here  a  treasure  which  I  had 
not  fully  appreciated.  We  spend  our  time  wandering 
through  the  fields;  we  know  mysterious  corners  in  the 
groves  sheltered  by  curtains  of  leaves,  dark  and  perfumed 
hiding  places  which  even  Sonnica  the  rich  might  envy  us. 
When  we  are  hungry  we  milk  Rhanto's  goats  and  we  rob 
a  beehive;  we  climb  trees  in  search  of  fruit;  this  is 
the  glorious  season  of  the  year;  the  whole  champaign 
is  full  of  cherries." 

He  suddenly  ceased  speaking,  fearing  lest  he  had 
said  too  much.  Perhaps  Rhanto  reproved  him  with 
a  nudge.  Then  he  added,  in  a  supplicating  tone : 

"  You  are  good,  Athenian.  Rhanto  and  I  have  looked 
upon  you  as  an  elder  brother  since  that  day  we  met 
you  on  the  Road  of  the  Serpent.  Do  not  say  anything 
to  my  father,  nor  to  Sonnica.  Let  us  be  happy  in  this 
life  of  ours,  which  is  worthy  of  the  gods." 

Actaeon  envied  the  felicity  of  these  care-free  youths, 
who  loved  each  other  frankly,  living  beneath  the  trees, 
strong  and  beautiful  as  wild  creatures  who  had  no 
thoughts  beyond  their  companionship. 


INVASION  181 

"  Saguntum  is  about  to  be  attacked.  War  is  at  our 
gates.  Did  you  not  know  it?" 

"  We   have  not  heard   of  it."   said   Erotion,   with   a 

* 

scornful  gesture.  "  I  am  interested  in  nothing  but 
Rhanto." 

"Are  you  not  interested  in  the  fate  of  your  city?" 

"  I  am  more  interested  in  the  kisses  of  my  shep- 
herdess. As  long  as  there  be  love,  sunshine,  and  fruits, 
what  does  the  rest  of  the  world  matter  to  me?" 

"  Have  you  no  thought  for  your  country,  you  truant?" 

"  Just  now  I  have  no  thought  for  anything  but  these 
cherries,  and  for  these  red  lips  which  are  as  fresh  as 
they." 

They  parted,  and  Actaeon  long  held  the  memory  of 
the  meeting.  The  light-heartedness  of  the  loving  couple 
filled  him  with  envy. 

The  summer  months  passed.  The  vines  of  the  domain 
ripened  their  clusters,  the  farmers  rejoiced  in  the  pros- 
pect of  the  coming  crop  hidden  beneath  the  leaves,  but 
from  time  to  time,  like  a  gloomy  trumpet  blast,  came  news 
of  Hannibal,  of  his  victories  over  the  tribes  of  the  in- 
terior who  refused  to  recognize  him,  and  of  his  imper- 
ious demands  upon  Saguntum. 

Acteeon  scented  the  nearness  of  war,  and  this,  which 
had  ever  been  his  principal  occupation,  now  caused 
him  only  sorrow.  He  had  grown  to  love  this  beautiful 
land  as  dearly  as  Greece.  His  soul,  saturated  with  the 
sweet  peace  of  the  fertile  fields,  and  of  the  rich  indus- 
trious city,  was  saddened  at  the  thought  that  this  life 
was  to  be  paralyzed.  His  existence  had  been  spent 
amid  struggles  and  adventures ;  and  now,  rich  and  happy, 
when  he  longed  for  peaqe  in  a  corner  where  he  hoped  to 


182  S6NNICA 

end  his  days,  war,  like  a  forgotten  mistress  who  presents 
herself  inopportunely,  returned  unbidden,  forcing  him 
anew  to  cruelty  and  destruction. 

One  afternoon,  at  the  end  of  summer,  he  was  ponder- 
ing these  things  as  he  was  riding  toward  the  city.  In 
the  oblique  rays  of  the  sun  the  industrious  bees,  search- 
ing out  the  wild  flowers,  glistened  like  golden  buttons. 
The  vintagers  were  singing  in  the  vineyards,  stooping 
over  their  baskets.  Actaeon  saw  one  of  the  slaves  whom 
Sonnica  kept  in  her  warehouses  in  Saguntum  come  run- 
ning from  the  direction  of  the  city. 

He  stopped  panting  before  Actseon.  He  was  almost 
speechless  from  fatigue,  and  his  broken  words  revealed 
his  alarm.  Hannibal  was  coming  from  the  direction 
of  Saetabis!  The  people  from  the  country  were  crowd- 
ing into  the  city  in  terror,  driving  their  flocks  before 
them.  They  had  not  seen  the  invader  but  they  ran, 
horrified  by  the  tales  of  the  fugitives  who  were  fleeing 
from  the  frontiers  of  the  Saguntine  territory.  The 
Carthaginians  had  crossed  the  border;  they  were  people 
of  ferocious  aspect,  who  bore  strange  arms,  who  looted 
the  villages,  and  set  them  on  fire.  He  was  running  to 
tell  his  mistress  that  she  might  take  refuge  in  the  city. 

He  rushed  on  toward  Sonnica's  villa.  The  Greek 
hesitated  a  moment;  he  deliberated  whether  he  should 
go  back  in  search  of  his  beloved,  but  he  ended  by  setting 
out  on  a  gallop  toward  the  city,  and  as  he  neared  it,  he 
rode  at  full  speed  around  the  walls.  He  went  for  a 
look  at  the  highway  from  the  mountains  which  gave 
Saguntum  communication  with  the  towns  by  a  branch 
which  led  to  Saebatis  and  Denia.  As  he  approached  he 


INVASION  183 

began  to  meet  the  refugees  of  whom  the  slave  had  told 
him. 

They  flooded  the  road  like  an  inundation.  The  flocks 
and  herds  were  bleating  and  lowing  under  the  lash, 
crowding  in  between  the  wagons;  women  were  running, 
carrying  great  bundles  on  their  heads,  and  dragging 
along  the  children  clutching  at  the  folds  of  their  tunics ; 
boys  were  driving  horses  laden  with  furniture  and  cloth- 
ing thrown  together  haphazard  in  the  precipitation  of 
flight,  and  ewes  leaped  to  the  sides  of  the  road  to  es- 
cape the  wheels  which,  catching  their  dragging  fleece, 
almost  crushed  them. 

The  Greek,  riding  into  the  stream  of  fugitives,  opened 
passage  with  his  horse  through  the  seething  wave  of 
wagons  and  animals,  rustics  and  slaves,  in  which  people 
of  different  towns  were  confusedly  mingled,  while 
members  of  scattered  families  were  calling  to  one  another 
desperately  through  the  clouds  of  dust. 

The  fleeing  multitude  was  clearing  away.  Actaeon  was 
beginning  to  meet  the  stragglers ;  poor  old  women  travel- 
ing with  vacillating  step,  bearing  on  their  shoulders 
some  lamb  which  constituted  their  entire  fortune;  old 
men  crushed  by  the  weight  of  pots  and  clothing;  sick 
people  dragging  themselves  along  by  the  aid  of  a  staff; 
abandoned  animals  wandering  among  the  olive  trees 
near  the  highway,  that  suddenly  darted  forward  at  full 
speed  through  the  fields  as  if  scenting  their  masters; 
children  seated  on  a  stone  weeping,  abandoned  by  their 
kindred. 

Soon  the  road  was  empty.  The  last  of  the  refugees 
were  left  behind,  and  Actseon  saw  before  him  only  the 
narrow  tongue  of  red  earth  winding  along  the  mountain 


184  S6NNICA 

slopes,  without  a  solitary  being  to  break  the  monotony 
of  the  road  with  his  shadow. 

The  gallop  of  his  horse  resounded  like  distant  thun- 
der through  the  profound  silence.  It  seemed  as  if 
Nature  had  expired  as  she  guessed  the  approach  of  war. 
Even  the  ancient  trees,  the  twisted  olives  which  had 
stood  for  centuries,  the  great  fig  trees  which  rose  like 
green  cupolas  against  the  mountain  slopes,  remained 
motionless,  as  if  terrified  at  the  approach  of  that  some- 
thing which  caused  the  people  to  abandon  their  homes 
and  to  flee  into  the  city. 

Actaeon  rode  through  a  village.  Closed  doors!  Silent 
streets !  From  the  interior  of  a  cabin  he  thought  he 
heard  a  faint  groan — some  sick  person  forsaken  by  his 
kindred  in  their  haste  to  escape.  Then  he  passed  a 
great  closed  villa.  Behind  the  high  mud  walls  a  dog 
was  howling  in  despair. 

Then  once  more  solitude,  silence,  absence  of  life,  a 
paralysis  that  seemed  to  creep  over  the  fields.  Night 
began  to  fall.  From  afar,  as  if  diffused  and  mellowed 
by  the  distance,  he  heard  a  muffled  booming;  something 
like  the  surging  of  an  invisible  sea,  the  swelling  roar  of 
an  inundation. 

The  Greek  left  the  road;  his  horse  began  to  climb 
a  cultivated  hill,  his  hoofs  sinking  into  the  red  soil  of 
the  vineyards.  From  the  height  he  could  dominate  the 
landscape  for  a  great  distance. 

The  sun's  last  rays  dyed  the  mountain  slopes  a  bril- 
liant orange.  On  the  winding  red  road  shone  like  a  rivulet 
of  sparks  the  cuirasses  of  a  group  of  horsemen  approach- 
ing cautiously  on  a  trot,  as  if  exploring  the  way.  Actaeon 
recognized  them;  they  were  the  Nuinidian  cavalry  with 


INVASION  185 

white  and  floating  mantles,  while,  mingled  with  them 
galloped  other  warriors  of  less  imposing  stature,  wav- 
ing lances  and  making  their  small  horses  caracole.  The 
Greek  smiled  as  he  recognized  Hannibal's  Amazons, 
the  famous  squadron  he  had  seen  in  New  Carthage, 
formed  of  the  wives  and  daughters  of  soldiers,  com- 
manded by  the  valorous  Asbyte,  daughter  of  larbas, 
the  Garamantan  of  Fezzan. 

Behind  this  group,  the  road  was  deserted  for  some 
distance.  Against  the  background,  like  a  dark  monster 
moving  with  serpentine  undulations,  loomed  the  army, 
an  immense  girdle  upon  which  glittered  the  lances  like 
a  line  of  fire  broken  at  intervals  by  square  bulks,  which 
advanced  like  moving  towers.  These  were  the  elephants. 

Suddenly  a  new  sun  seemed  to  rise  behind  the  army, 
illuminating  its  footsteps.  A  lurid  light  filled  the 
horizon,  and  upon  this  ruddy  background  the  serrated 
outlines  of  an  immense  mass  were  traced.  A  village  was 
in  flames.  Hannibal's  troops,  composed  of  mercenaries 
from  all  countries,  and  from  barbarian  tribes  in  the 
interior,  intended  to  terrify  the  hostile  city,  hence  im- 
mediately upon  entering  Saguntine  territory  they  laid 
waste  the  fields  and  set  fire  to  the  dwellings.  Actaeon 
feared  to  become  surrounded  by  the  Numidians  and  the 
Amazons,  and  riding  down  from  the  height  he  started 
toward  Saguntum  at  a  desperate  gallop. 

It  was  after  dark  when  he  reached  the  city,  and  he 
had  to  call  his  friend  Mopsus  and  make  himself  known 
before  the  gate  would  open  to  him. 

"  Have  you  seen  them?"  asked  the  archer. 

"  Before  the  cock  crows  they  will  be  before  our  walls." 

The  city  presented   an  extraordinary  aspect.     The 


186  S6NNICA 

streets  were  illuminated  with  bonfires.  Pine  torches 
burned  in  doorways  and  windows,  and  the  multitude 
of  fugitives  huddled  in  the  public  squares,  filling  the 
porticos,  and  lying  on  the  thresholds.  All  the  Sagun- 
tines  had  streamed  into  the  city. 

The  Forum  was  a  camp.  The  flocks  and  herds  were 
crowded  between  the  four  colonnades  without  space  to 
move,  stamping  and  bellowing;  sheep  sprang  about  on 
the  steps  of  the  temples;  families  of  rustics  boiled  pots 
on  the  Attic  bases  of  the  marble  columns,  and  the  glow 
of  so  many  fires,  flickering  on  the  fa9ades  of  the  houses, 
seemed  to  communicate  a  thrill  of  alarm  to  the  entire 
city.  The  magistrates  ordered  the  fugitives  lying  in 
the  streets  obstructing  traffic  to  get  up,  and  lodged 
them  in  the  slaves'  quarters  of  the  dwellings  of  the  rich, 
or  had  them  conducted  to  the  Acropolis  to  camp  in  its 
innumerable  buildings.  The  herds  also  were  driven 
thither  by  the  light  of  torches,  between  a  double  row 
of  almost  naked  men  who  beat  the  oxen  when  they 
tried  to  escape  down  the  sides  of  the  sacred  mountain. 

Rising  above  the  murmur  of  the  multitude  sounded 
blasts  from  trumpets  and  conch  shells  calling  the  citi- 
zens to  form  ready  for  defending  the  walls.  Merchants, 
dressed  in  bronze  loricas,  their  faces  covered  by  the 
Grecian  helmet  crested  with  an  enormous  brush  of 
horsehair,  issued  from  their  houses,  tearing  themselves 
from  the  arms  of  wives  and  children,  and  strode  majes- 
tically through  the  crowds  of  rustics,  bow  in  hand, 
their  spears  over  their  shoulders,  and  their  swords 
clanking  against  their  nude  thighs,  their  limbs  covered 
to  the  knees  with  the  copper  greaves.  The  young  men 
dragged  to  the  walls  enormous  stones  to  hurl  down 


INVASION  187 

upon  the  besiegers,  and  they  laughed  on  being  assisted 
by  the  women  who  were  eager  to  take  part  in  the  com- 
bat. Old  men  with  venerable  beards,  rich  members 
of  the  Senate,  opened  passage,  followed  by  slaves  with 
great  bundles  of  spears  and  swords,  distributing  the 
arras  among  the  strongest  country  people,  first  making 
sure  if  they  were  freemen. 

The  city  seemed  to  rejoice.  Hannibal  was  coming! 
The  more  enthusiastic  had  actually  been  anxious  lest  the 
African  would  not  dare  to  present  himself  before  their 
walls;  but  there  he  was,  and  all  laughed,  thinking  that 
Carthage  would  perish  in  the  fall  of  Hannibal  here  at 
the  feet  of  Saguntum,  as  soon  as  Borne  should  rally  to 
the  aid  of  the  city. 

The  Saguntine  ambassadors  were  already  in  Rome, 
and  her  legions  would  soon  arrive  and  crush  the  be- 
siegers at  a  blow.  Some,  in  their  enthusiastic  optimism, 
inclined  to  the  marvelous,  believing  that,  by  a  miracle 
of  the  gods,  the  great  deed  would  happen  within  a  few 
hours,  and  that  as  soon  as  day  should  dawn,  at  the 
very  instant  when  Hannibal's  army  had  begun  to  in- 
vest Saguntum,  a  countless  galaxy  of  sails  would  appear 
on  the  blue  of  the  Sucronian  gulf — the  fleet  convoying 
the  invincible  veterans  of  Rome. 

Nearly  the  entire  city  was  on  the  walls.  The  multi- 
tude crowded  upon  them  until  many  had  to  catch  hold 
of  the  merlons  to  keep  from  falling. 

Outside  the  ramparts  darkness  reigned  absolute.  The 
frogs  that  inhabited  the  pools  along  the  river  were 
hushed  as  if  terrified;  the  dogs  that  wandered  vagabond 
through  the  champaign  barked  ceaselessly;  they  sensed 


188  S6NNICA 

the  presence  of  hidden  beings  moving  in  the  shadows 
surrounding  the  city. 

Obscurity  augumented  the  anxious  uncertainty  of  the 
watchers  on  the  walls.  Suddenly  a  point  of  light  pierced 
the  darkness  of  the  plain;  another  and  then  another 
flash,  in  different  places  at  a  distance  from  the  city. 
They  were  torches  guiding  the  steps  of  the  approaching 
army.  Before  the  ruddy  spot  of  light  silhouettes  of  men 
and  horses  were  seen  to  pass.  Far  off  on  the  hilltops 
gleamed  bonfires,  serving  as  signals  to  straggling  troops. 

These  lights  exasperated  the  more  impatient.  Some  of 
the  younger  men  could  no  longer  remain  inactive,  and 
drawing  their  bows,  began  to  shoot  their  arrows.  Prompt- 
ly came  response  from  out  the  darkness.  A  whistling 
passed  over  the  heads  of  the  crowd,  and  from  the  houses 
near  the  wall  some  tiles  flew  off  with  a  crash.  Sling- 
shots from  the  enemy! 

Thus  the  night  passed.  When  the  cocks  crowed 
announcing  dawn  a  great  part  of  the  multitude  had 
fallen  asleep,  wearied  with  straining  their  eyes  into 
the  darkness  where  buzzed  the  invisible  foe. 

When  the  sun  rose  the  Saguntines  saw  Hannibal's 
entire  army  before  their  walls,  on  the  side  toward  the 
river.  Actaeon,  as  he  noted  the  location  of  the  troops, 
could  not  repress  a  smile. 

"  He  well  knows  the  lay  of  the  land.  His  visit  to  the 
city  has  stood  him  in  good  stead.  Even  in  the  dark  he 
has  chosen  the  only  point  from  which  Saguntum  can 
be  attacked." 

The  whole  side  of  the  mountain  was  free  of  besiegers. 
His  army  had  encamped  between  the  river  and  the  lower 
part  of  the  city,  occupying  the  orchards,  the  gardens 


INVASION  189 

of  the  villas,  the  beautiful  section  of  which  the  rich 
of  Saguntum  were  so  proud. 

Soldiers  came  and  went  through  the  luxurious  villas, 
preparing  their  morning  meal;  they  made  kindling  of 
sumptuous  furniture  to  light  their  camp  fires;  they 
wrapped  themselves  in  garments  they  had  found,  and 
they  cut  down  trees  to  make  room  for  setting  up  their 
tents.  Across  the  river,  over  the  immense  domain,  groups 
of  horsemen  scattered  out  to  take  possession  of  villages, 
of  villas,  of  the  innumerable  buildings  which  rose  above 
the  verdure  of  the  plain,  abandoned  to  the  mercy  of 
the  enemy. 

The  first  things  to  attract  the  attention  of  the  Sagun- 
tines,  exciting  a  childish  curiosity,  were  the  elephants. 
They  stood  in  a  row  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  river, 
enormous,  ashen-hued,  like  tumescences  uprisen  from  the 
earth  within  the  night,  their  green-painted  ears  drooping 
like  fans,  from  time  to  time  waving  their  trunks 
which  seemed  like  gigantic  leeches,  trying  to  suck  in  the 
blue  of  the  sky.  Their  drivers,  assisted  by  the  soldiers, 
unbound  the  square  towers  resting  on  their  backs,  and 
rolled  up  the  heavy  trappings  which  covered  their  flanks 
when  engaged  in  battle.  They  set  them  free,  as  if  the 
fertile  plain  were  to  them  an  immense  stable,  their 
drivers  being  convinced  that  the  siege  would  be  a  lengthy 
undertaking,  and  that  while  it  lasted  they  would  not  need 
the  assistance  of  the  terrible  beasts,  so  appreciated  in 
battle. 

Near  the  elephants,  along  the  river  bank,  stood  the 
engines  of  war,  the  catapults,  the  battering-rams,  the 
movable  towers,  complicated  structures  of  wood  and 


190  SONNICA 

bronze,  drawn  by  rosaries  of  double  yokes  of  oxen  hav- 
ing enormous  backward  curving  horns. 

As  if  suffering  from  an  eruption  the  fields  were  covered 
with  pustules  of  diverse  colors,  tents  of  cloth,  of 
straw,  or  of  skins,  some  conical,  others  square,  the  ma- 
jority mound-shaped  like  ant  hills,  around  which 
swarmed  the  armed  multitude. 

The  Saguntines,  from  the  top  of  the  walls,  examined 
the  besieging  army  that  seemed  to  fill  the  whole  plain, 
and  which  was  being  joined  by  a  ceaseless  stream  of 
new  crowds  on  foot  and  on  horseback,  flowing  in  from 
every  road,  and  seeming  to  roll  down  from  the  crests 
of  the  surrounding  mountains.  In  was  an  agglomera- 
tion of  diverse  races,  of  different  peoples;  a  bizarre  col- 
lection of  costumes,  colors,  and  types,  and  those  Sagun- 
tines who  had  been  taught  by  travel  recognized  the 
different  nations,  and  were  pointing  them  out  to  their 
absorbed  fellow  citizens. 

Some  horsemen  who  seemed  to  fly,  lying  stretched 
along  the  backs  of  their  swift  barbs,  were  Numidians, 
Africans  of  feminine  aspect,  covered  with  white  veils, 
wearing  women's  earrings  and  slippers,  perfumed,  with 
eyes  painted  black,  but  who  were  impetuous  in  combat 
and  fought  in  full  career  using  their  lances  with  great 
skill.  Around  the  camp  fires  in  the  gardens  stalked  athle- 
tic negroes  from  Libya,  with  kinky  hair  and  glistening 
teeth,  smiling  In  stupid  satisfaction  as  they  wrapped 
their  naked  limbs  in  garments  of  rich  weave  which 
they  had  just  stolen,  shivering  with  cold  as  soon  as  they 
drew  away  from  the  fire,  as  if  suffering  martyrdom  in 
the  cool  morning  air.  These  dark,  shiny-skinned  men, 
so  seldom  seen  in  Saguntum,  excited  the  curiosity  of  the 


INVASION  191 

citizens  almost  as  much  as  the  Amazons  who  audacious- 
ly passed  on  a  gallop  close  to  the  walls  to  obtain 
a  better  view  of  the  city.  They  were  young  women, 
slender,  their  skins  bronzed  by  exposure.  Their  hair 
floated  behind  their  helmets  like  a  barbaric  decoration, 
and  they  wore  no  other  clothing  than  a  broad  tunic  open 
on  the  left  side,  displaying  sinewy  limbs  clinging  to 
their  horses'  ribs.  Over  the  breast  some  wore  corselets  of 
bronze-scales,  also  open  on  the  left  side  to  give  greater 
freedom  in  fighting,  displaying  the  roundness  of  their 
small  breasts  made  firm  and  hard  by  fatiguing  exercise. 
They  rode  their  wild  nervous  horses  bareback,  guiding 
them  with  a  delicate  bridle,  and  as  they  galloped  in 
groups  the  ferocious  animals  bit  and  kicked  each  other, 
thus  enlivening  the  desperate  race.  The  Amazons  ap- 
proached close  to  the  walls,  laughing  and  hurling  insults 
which  the  Saguntines  did  not  understand;  they  waved 
their  lances  and  shields ;  and  when  a  cloud  of  arrows 
and  stones  was  flung  after  them,  they  dashed  away, 
with  wind-swept  drapery,  turning  their  heads  to  re- 
peat their  mocking  gestures. 

The  besieged  distinguished  in  the  dark  crowd  of 
soldiers  the  cuirasses  of  certain  horsemen  which  shone 
like  plates  of  gold.  They  were  the  Carthaginian  cap- 
tains, some  rich  men  of  Carthage  who  followed  Hanni- 
bal, sons  of  opulent  merchants  who  marched  with  the 
army  more  like  shepherds  than  like  chiefs,  covered 
with  metal  from  head  to  foot  for  protection  against 
blows,  and,  with  the  genius  of  their  race,  more  devoted 
to  administering  the  conquests  and  in  sharing  the  booty 
than  in  seeking  glory  in  combat. 

In  addition  to  these  people,  those  on  the  walls  who 


192  S6NNICA 

were  familiar  with  them  pointed  out  the  other  troops 
of  the  besieging  army.  Some  with  skin  the  color  of 
milk,  with  faded  mustaches,  and  red  horsehair  tied  to 
the  crowns  of  their  heads,  who  laid  aside  their  military 
cloaks  and  tall  boots  of  untanned  leather  to  bathe  in 
the  river,  were  Gauls.  The  others,  bronzed  and  so 
thin  that  their  skeletons  were  outlined  as  if  they  would 
push  through  the  skin,  were  Africans  from  the  oases 
of  the  great  desert,  mysterious  people,  who  with  the 
beating  of  their  small  drums  caused  the  moon  to  descend, 
and  by  playing  the  flute  forced  venomous  serpents  to 
dance.  Mingling  with  them  were  the  bulky  Lusitan- 
ians,  with  limbs  as  strong  as  columns,  and  broad  rock- 
like  chests ;  those  from  Baetica,  united  to  their  horses  day 
and  night  by  a  love  which  lasted  all  their  lives;  the 
hostile  Celtiberians,  bushy-haired  and  dirty,  wearing 
their  rags  with  arrogance;  tribes  from  the  North,  who 
worshipped  solitary  menhirs  as  gods,  and  in  the  moon- 
light sought  mysterious  herbs  for  charms  and  philters; 
men  of  ferocious  customs,  in  perpetual  battle  with  hun- 
ger; barbarian  people  of  whom  horrifying  tales  were 
told,  believed  to  devour  the  bodies  of  the  conquered 
after  a  victory. 

The  Balearic  slingers  provoked  laughter  in  spite  of 
their  ferocious  aspect.  From  the  walls  the  observers 
commented  on  the  extravagant  customs  which  prevailed 
in  their  island  home,  and  the  multitude  burst  into  laugh- 
ter contemplating  the  almost  naked  youths,  carrying 
sticks  with  charred  points  which  served  them  as  lances, 
and  having  three  slings,  one  wound  around  the  fore- 
head, another  about  the  waist,  and  the  third  held  in  the 
hand.  One  of  these  slings  was  of  horsehair,  one  of 


INVASION  193 

esparto,  and  the  third  of  bull  tendon,  and  one  or  the  other 
was  used  according  to  the  distance  they  had  to  throw. 

They  lived  on  their  islands  in  caves  or  in  the  hollow 
spaces  between  huge  masses  of  rock,  and  they  were  taught 
to  use  the  sling  while  mere  children.  Their  fathers  set 
their  bread  some  distance  from  them,  and  would  not  let 
them  eat  it  until  they  had  brought  it  down  with  a  pebble. 
Their  passion  was  drunkenness,  and  woman  their  strong- 
est appetite.  In  combat  they  turned  with  scorn  from 
prisoners  who  would  bring  high  ransom  to  capture  the 
women,  and  they  not  infrequently  would  exchange  six 
strong  slave  men  for  a  single  slave  woman.  On  the 
islands  they  were  unfamiliar  with  gold  and  silver;  the 
elders  divining  the  evils  of  money,  had  prohibited  the 
importation  of  coins,  and  the  Balearic  slingers  in  the 
service  of  Carthage,  unable  to  carry  their  earnings  to 
their  country,  spent  their  wages  in  drink  or  flung  them 
generously  into  the  hands  of  the  loose  and  wretched 
women  who  followed  the  army.  Their  traditional  cus- 
toms amused  the  Saguntines.  At  their  weddings,  so 
said  those  who  had  visited  the  islands,  it  was  customary 
for  all  the  guests  to  embrace  the  bride  in  advance  of  the 
husband,  and  at  funerals  the  corpse  was  beaten  until 
the  bones  were  crushed  and  converted  into  a  shapeless 
mass  which  they  forced  into  a  narrow  urn  and  buried 
under  a  heap  of  stones.  Their  slings  were  terrible. 
They  hurled  to  great  distances  balls  of  sun-baked  clay, 
conical  at  their  ends,  and  bearing  grotesque  inscriptions 
dedicated  to  the  one  who  received  the  blow,  and  in  bat- 
tle they  flung  stones  weighing  a  pound  with  such  force 
that  the  highest  tempered  armor  failed  to  resist  them. 


194  S6NNICA 

In  the  rear  of  this  warlike  crowd  ragged  women  of 
all  colors  scattered  through  the  champaign;  lean,  naked 
children  who  did  not  know  their  parents;  the  parasites 
of  war,  who  marched  at  the  tail  of  the  army  to  revel  in 
the  spoils  of  victory;  females  who  at  night  lay  down  in 
one  extreme  of  the  camp  and  arose  on  the  opposite  in 
the  morning,  and,  aged  in  the  prime  of  their  youth  by 
fatigue  and  blows,  died  forsaken  by  the  roadside ;  young- 
sters who  looked  upon  all  the  soldiers  of  their  race  as 
their  fathers,  bearing  on  their  backs  on  long  marches  the 
firewood  or  the  flesh-pot  of  the  warriors,  and,  in  moments 
of  fiercest  struggle,  when  the  fighting  was  hand  to  hand, 
they  slipped  between  the  adversaries'  legs  and  bit  them 
like  rabid  cur-dogs. 

Actaeon  found  Sonnica  on  the  wall,  gazing  at  the 
hostile  camp  in  the  first  streak  of  dawn.  The  beautiful 
Greek  had  taken  refuge  in  Saguntum  the  night  before, 
followed  by  slaves  and  flocks,  moving  part  of  her  riches 
from  the  villa  to  her  warehouse.  She  had  left  behind 
rooms  filled  with  paintings  and  mosaics;  rich  furniture, 
sumptuous  table-service,  all  which  would  fall  into  the 
hands  of  the  victor.  And  she  and  her  fellow  Greek  saw 
peeping  through  the  distant  foliage  the  terrace  of  the 
villa  with  its  statues,  the  tower  of  the  doves  and  the 
roofs  of  the  houses  of  the  slaves,  over  which  men,  barely 
discernible,  were  running  like  insects.  The  invaders 
were  there;  perhaps  they  would  amuse  themselves  by 
shooting  their  arrows  at  the  brilliantly  plumaged  Asiatic 
birds,  and  by  beating  the  old  and  sick  slaves  abandoned 
in  the  flight.  Between  the  banana  trees  in  the  garden 
rose  the  smoke  of  a  bonfire.  The  Greek  woman  and  her 
lover  guessed  the  destruction  and  rapine  that  were 


INVASION  195 

taking  place.  Sonnica  grew  sad,  not  at  the  loss  of  a  part 
of  her  riches,  but  because  they  were  rending  her  heart 
through  destroying  a  place  which  had  been  witness 
to  her  first  outbursts  of  love  for  the  Athenian. 

Some  time  after  sunrise  the  Saguntine  people  cried 
out  with  indignation.  Along  the  Road  of  the  Serpent 
appeared  groups  of  drunken  and  shouting  women  em- 
bracing soldiers.  They  were  the  lupas  of  the  port, 
the  miserable  harlots  who  thronged  around  the  temple 
of  Aphrodite  by  night,  and  who  were  denied  entrance 
to  the  city.  When  the  first  Carthaginian  horsemen 
passed  through  the  port  these  creatures  had  followed 
them  with  enthusiasm.  Accustomed  to  the  coarse  bland- 
ishments of  men  of  all  countries,  the  presence  of  these 
soldiers,  so  different  in  dress  and  nationality  did  not 
seem  strange  to  them.  The  'wolves'  of  the  land  were 
the  same  as  those  of  the  sea.  They  adored  strong  men, 
birds  of  prey  which  could  destroy  them  with  their  talons, 
and  they  followed  the  Carthaginians  to  their  camp, 
rejoicing  in  their  hearts  at  the  chance  to  approach  the 
city  without  fear  of  punishment,  and  at  being  able  to 
mock  the  besieged  inhabitants  with  the  concentrated 
odium  of  long  years  of  humiliation. 

They  sang  like  mad  women,  flitting  from  one  pair  of 
greedy  and  trembling  hands  to  the  next  which  disputed 
for  them  as  if  in  their  eagerness  they  would  tear  them  to 
pieces.  They  drank  to  intoxication  from  amphorae  of 
rich  wines  sacked  from  the  villas ;  around  their  shoulders 
they  flung  cloths  with  threads  of  gold,  stolen  but  a 
moment  before;  the  Numidians  with  their  moist  gazelle- 
like  eyes,  looked  upon  them  admiringly,  bedecking  them 
with  crowns  of  grass,  and  they  in  turn  bursting  into 


1U6  S6NNICA 

bacchanal  laughter,  petted  the  kinky  hair  of  the  Ethi- 
opians, who  giggled  like  children,  displaying  their  sharp 
cannibal  teeth. 

They  gave  themselves  up  to  all  manner  of  ribaldry 
near  the  long  line  of  horses  staked  out  in  front  of  the 
tents,  displaying  their  wantonness  as  a  shameless  insult 
to  the  besieged  city,  and  the  Saguntines  who  had  wit- 
nessed undaunted  the  approach  of  the  long  defile  of  the 
enemy  trembled  with  ire  behind  their  merlons  as  they 
witnessed  this  offense  of  their  courtesans. 

"  The  wretches !    Canines !" 

The  women  of  the  city  hissed  and  reviled  them,  pale 
with  fury,  leaning  over  the  walls  ready  to  spring  into 
the  camp  to  lay  hold  upon  the  strumpets,  while  they, 
as  if  the  anger  of  the  city  only  stimulated  them,  re- 
doubled their  laughter,  adding  insult  to  insult,  and  ex- 
citing the  whole  army  to  join  with  them. 

A  fresh  cause  of  indignation  infuriated  anew  the 
minds  of  the  Saguntines.  Some  thought  they  saw  some- 
thing familiar  in  the  appearance  of  one  of  the  Celtibe- 
rian  warriors  riding  at  the  head  of  a  troop  of  cavalry. 
His  gallant  bearing  on  his  horse,  the  arrogance  with 
which  he  galloped  with  firm  seat  in  the  saddle,  recalled  to 
many  the  sightly  procession  of  the  Panathenaic  festival. 
When  he  dismounted  and  removed  his  helmet,  wiping 
away  the  sweat,  all  recognized  him,  and  raised  a  shout 
of  resentment.  Alorcus!  Even  he!  Another  ingrate, 
faithless  to  the  city  which  had  overwhelmed  him  with 
honors  and  distinctions!  His  duty  as  chieftain  com- 
pelled him  to  ignore  his  fraternal  reception  in  Saguntum. 

Blind  with  rage  they  drew  their  bows  against  him 
but  the  arrows  fell  short  of  the  spot  where  the  Celtibe/- 


INVASION  197 

rians  were  encamped.  The  maddened  crowd  experienced 
one  slight  consolation.  The  groups  along  the  wall  made 
way  for  Theron,  the  priest  of  Hercules,  who  advanced 
with  the  majesty  of  a  god,  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  enemy, 
insensible  to  the  general  adoration  which  surrounded 
him. 

The  Saguntines  persuaded  themselves  that  they  be- 
held Hercules  himself,  who  perhaps  had  abandoned  his 
temple  on  the  Acropolis  to  come  down  to  their  walls. 
He  was  nude;  an  enormous  lion  skin  covered  his  back. 
The  wild  beast's  claws  were  crossed  over  his  breast, 
and  his  head  was  covered  by  the  cranium  of  the  animal, 
with  bristling  whiskers,  sharp  teeth,  and  yellow  glass 
eyes  which  shone  between  the  tossed  golden  mane.  His 
right  hand  clutched  without  visible  effort  the  entire 
trunk  of  an  oak  tree  which  served  him  as  a  cudgel  in 
imitation  of  the  mace  of  the  god.  His  shoulders  towered 
above  all  other  heads.  His  breasts  were  round  and  strong 
as  shields,  on  which  the  veins  and  sinews  were  traced 
like  tendrils  winding  round  the  muscles,  and  his  colum- 
nar limbs,  all  excited  admiration.  His  virility  was  the 
very  type  of  sovereign  power.  He  was  so  enormous 
that  his  head  seemed  small  between  his  great  shoulders, 
exaggerated  in  size  by  the  cushion  of  his  muscles;  his 
chest  heaved  like  a  bellows,  and  instinctively  all  took  a 
step  backward,  fearing  contact  with  that  machine  of 
flesh  created  for  strength. 

Sonnica's  friends,  the  young  gallants,  who,  even  on 
this  extraordinary  occasion  had  not  forgotten  to  paint 
their  faces,  followed  and  admired  him,  ordering  the 
crowd  to  give  them  passage. 


198  S6NNICA 

"  Hail,  Theron !"  shouted  Lachares.  "  We  will  see 
what  Hannibal  will  do  when  he  meets  you  in  battle." 

"  Hail  to  the  Saguntine  Hercules !"  replied  the  other 
youths,  leaning  weakly  on  the  backs  of  their  little 
slave  boys. 

The  giant  looked  over  the  encampment,  in  which 
trumpets  began  to  sound,  and  the  soldiers  ran  to  form 
in  rank.  The  slingers  cautiously  advanced,  sheltering 
themselves  behind  buildings  and  hummocks.  The  at- 
tack was  about  to  begin.  On  the  walls  the  bowmen  drew 
their  bows,  and  the  boys  piled  up  stones  to  hurl  with 
their  slings.  The  old  men  compelled  the  women  to  retire. 
At  the  head  of  the  stairway  leading  up  to  the  top  of  the 
wall,  Euphobias  the  philosopher  stood  haranguing  in 
the  midst  of  a  group,  paying  no  heed  to  the  indignation 
of  his  hearers. 

"  Blood  is  going  to  flow,"  he  shouted ;  "  you  will  all 
perish,  and  for  what?  I  ask  you  what  do  you  gain  by 
not  obeying  Hannibal?  You  will  always  have  a  master, 
and  it  is  just  as  well  to  be  friends  of  Carthage  as  of 
Rome.  The  siege  will  be  prolonged,  and  you  will  die 
of  hunger ;  I  shall  outlive  you  all,  because  I  know  hunger 
from  of  old  like  a  faithful  friend.  But  again  I  ask  you, 
what  more  does  it  profit  you  to  be  Romans  than  Car- 
thaginians? Live  and  enjoy!  Leave  shedding  of  blood 
to  the  butchers,  and  before  you  think  of  putting  another 
man  to  death,  study  your  own  selves.  If  you  would 
give  heed  to  my  wisdom,  if  instead  of  scorning  me,  you 
would  feed  me  in  exchange  for  my  advice,  you  would 
not  be  shut  up  in  your  city  like  foxes  in  a  trap." 

A  chorus  of  imprecations  and  a  row  of  threatening 
fists  answered  the  philosopher. 


INVASION  199 

"  Parasite !  Slave  of  poverty !"  they  shouted.  "  You 
are  worse  than  those  lupas  who  throw  themselves  at  the 
barbarians." 

Euphobias,  whose  insolence  increased  as  the  indigna- 
tion blazed  higher,  opened  his  mouth  to  reply;  but  he 
hesitated,  beholding  a  dark  mass  which  shut  out  the 
sunlight.  The  gigantic  Theron  was  before  him,  looking  at 
him  as  scornfully  as  would  one  of  those  elephants  that 
the  besiegers  had  near  the  river.  He  raised  his  left 
hand  carelessly,  as  if  he  were  going  to  flip  off  an  insect; 
he  barely  grazed  the  insolent  face  when  the  philosopher 
tumbled  down  the  steps  from  the  wall,  his  head  bleed- 
ing, silent,  bumping  from  step  to  step  without  a  groan, 
like  a  man  accustomed  to  such  caresses,  and  convinced 
that  pain  is  but  a  figment  of  the  imagination. 

At  the  same  moment  a  cloud  of  black  arrows  whistled 
over  the  walls  like  a  flock  of  birds.  Tiles  flew  off, 
bits  of  plaster  sprang  from  the  merlons,  and  some  fell 
from  the  wall  with  broken  heads.  From  between  the 
merlons  stones  and  arrows  leaped  as  an  impetuous 
answer. 

The  defense  of  the  city  had  begun! 


CHAPTER  VI 

ASBYTE    AND    HANNIBAL 

HANNIBAL  lay  tossing  between  the  bright-hued  cover- 
ings of  his  couch,  unable  to  conciliate  sleep. 

The  cocks  had  announced  midnight,  breaking  the 
silence  of  the  camp  with  their  shrill  voices,  and  the 
chieftain  was  yet  awake,  closing  his  eyes  though  unable 
to  sleep.  His  rest  was  disturbed  by  the  singing  of  a 
nightingale  perched  in  a  great  tree  from  the  branches 
of  which  hung  his  tent. 

An  earthenware  lamp  illuminated  the  mass  of  objects 
strewn  carelessly  around  his  bed.  On  the  floor  glis- 
tened cuirasses,  greaves,  and  helmets,  over  which  were 
thrown  rich  fabrics  stolen  from  the  Saguntine  villas. 
Grecian  furniture,  delicately  wrought  toilette  amphorae, 
tapestries  with  mythological  scenes,  lay  in  a  heap  min- 
gled with  rawhide  whips,  shields  of  hippopotamus  hide, 
and  the  rags  of  Hannibal's  personal  costume,  for,  though 
a  lover  of  glittering  arms,  he  was  careless  and  dirty  in 
his  dress.  Elegant  Grecian  vases  he  put  to  the  vilest 
uses.  An  alabaster  crater  covered  by  a  shield  served 
as  a  seat;  a  huge  terra  cotta  vase,  decorated  by  a  Gre- 
cian artist  with  the  adventures  of  Achilles,  the  African 
scornfully  used  in  a  manner  calculated  to  express  the 
height  of  his  contempt  for  refinement.  Pieces  of  statues 
and  columns  destroyed  during  the  tempest  of  invasion 

200 


ASBYTE  AND  HANNIBAL  201 

were  sunk  in  the  ground,  making  seats  for  Hannibal's 
captains  when  a  council  was  held  in  the  chieftain's 
tent.  It  was  the  spoil  of  war,  looted  and  thrown  about 
in  a  fever  of  robbery.  Only  a  small  portion  of  it  had 
reached  the  chief,  who  felt  absolute  scorn  for  artistic 
beauty  except  when  stamped  on  precious  metals.  He 
sneered  at  the  gods  of  this  land  as  he  did  at  those  of 
his  own  country  and  of  the  world;  he  spat  upon  the 
marble  forms  of  divinities  which  filled  the  camp,  as  if 
they  were  scraps  of  worthless  stone,  good  for  nothing 
but  to  be  hurled  by  a  catapult  against  the  enemy. 

Impelled  by  nervous  excitement,  which  prevented  his 
sleeping,  he  raised  up  in  his  couch,  and  the  lamplight 
shone  full  upon  his  face.  He  was  no  longer  the  Celti- 
berian  shepherd,  dishevelled  and  ferocious,  whom  Actaeon 
had  met  in  the  port  of  Saguntum.  Divested  of  his  dis- 
guise he  showed  what  he  was — a  young  man  of  medium 
height,  with  strong  and  well  proportioned  limbs,  without 
display  of  exaggerated  muscles,  but  revealing  in  his 
body  the  temper  of  steel,  a  vitality  capable  in  supreme 
moments  of  the  most  stupendous  achievements.  His 
face  was  slightly  bronzed,  and  his  hair  lay  around  his 
head  in  thick  short  curls  like  a  black  and  lustrous  tur- 
ban, completely  covering  his  forehead,  and  leaving 
exposed  the  lobes  of  his  ears,  from  which  hung  great 
discs  of  bronze.  His  beard  was  thick  and  curly;  his 
nose  straight  and  somewhat  prominent,  and  his  eyes, 
large  and  imperious,  always  looked  sidewise,  with  an 
expression  of  profound  astuteness  and  unapproachable 
reserve.  His  muscular  neck  was  habitually  bent,  inclin- 
ing his  head  toward  the  right,  as  if  to  more  clearly 
catch  the  sounds  around  him. 


202  S6NNICA 

He  wore  a  simple,  dirty,  and  threadbare  sagum,  like 
any  one  of  those  Celtiberians  who  lay  snoring  in  the 
tents  roundabout,  and,  as  a  sign  of  command,  there  shone 
on  his  wrists  two  broad  golden  bracelets,  which  added 
strength  by  their  confinement  of  the  tendons  and  muscles 
of  the  arm. 

For  more  than  a  month  he  had  been  before  the  walls 
of  Saguntum  without  achieving  any  advantage.  He  had 
spent  the  whole  of  that  afternoon  directing  his  engines 
of  war  without  result,  and  now  in  his  solitude  this  want 
of  success  irritated  his  nerves,  and  dispelled  his  sleep. 
The  petted  child  of  victory,  he  had  conquered  in  open 
fight  the  most  savage  tribes  of  Iberia;  he  had  dragged 
his  elephants  over  the  crests  of  lofty  mountains,  crossing 
rivers,  breaking  trails  through  forests,  seeing  warlike 
hordes  fall  prostrate  before  him  as  if  he  were  a  god, 
but  now,  for  the  first  time  in  his  life  he  encountered  a 
stubborn  enemy,  which  behind  sheltering  walls  mocked 
at  him  and  would  not  suffer  him  to  advance  a  step. 

The  city  of  merchants  and  farmers  which  he  had 
studied  from  within,  looking  scornfully  upon  its  opulence 
and  effeminacy,  threatened  to  break  the  current  of  his 
good  luck,  and,  finding  it  indomitable,  and  reflecting 
upon  his  enemies  in  Carthage,  upon  the  wrath  of  Rome, 
and  realizing  that  time  was  passing  while  he  was  making 
no  headway,  the  chieftain  experienced  a  gust  of  anxiety. 

He  had  chosen  well  the  vulnerable  point  of  Saguntum. 
His  engines  of  war  were  placed  before  the  lower  part 
of  the  city  where  the  walls  projected  into  the  valley, 
upon  an  open,  level  plain,  which  permitted  the  advance 
of  the  battering-rams;  but  scarcely  had  the  hundreds 
of  naked  men  who  dragged  the  heavy  machines  come 


ASBYTE  AND  HANNIBAL  203 

within  range  than  such  a  shower  of  arrows  fell  about 
them  that  those  who  were  not  pinned  to  the  ground  had 
to  flee  for  their  lives. 

Sometimes,  under  cover  of  the  mantelets,  which  ad- 
vanced on  wheels,  and  through  the  loopholes  of  which  the 
Carthaginian  bowmen  shot,  they  managed  to  get  the 
battering-rams  to  the  foot  of  the  wall,  but  while  that 
part  of  the  city  was  the  most  exposed  to  attack,  the  ram- 
parts which  in  the  upper  portion  of  Saguntum  were  of 
adobe  had  here  a  stony  rock  base,  and  in  vain  the  bronze 
rams'-heads  which  formed  the  ends  of  the  beams,  pound- 
ed and  pounded,  operated  by  hundreds  of  arms.  Showers 
of  arrows  and  stones  fell  upon  the  besiegers,  breaking 
the  shields  which  covered  them.  A  great  tower  domi- 
nated the  whole  area  around  the  assailants,  sowing  death 
among  them  without  exposure  to  the  besieged,  and  not 
content  with  this,  under  the  impulse  of  their  passion, 
they  frequently  sprang  forth  from  behind  the  ramparts, 
knifing  the  Carthaginians. 

Each  of  these  sallies  cost  Hannibal's  army  severe 
losses.  The  Africans  had  begun  to  tell  with  supersti- 
tious dread  of  a  naked  giant,  wearing  a  lion's  skin,  and 
brandishing  a  tree-trunk,  who  charged  at  the  head 
of  the  Saguntines,  and  at  each  blow  ploughed  a  broad 
furrow  through  the  assailants.  The  Ethiopians  saw  in 
him  a  terrible  and  sanguinary  divinity,  like  those  which 
they  worshipped  in  their  oases ;  the  Celtiberians  declared 
that  it  was  Hercules,  descended  from  Olympus  to  pro- 
tect the  city. 

Hannibal  recognized  him  in  the  battles  from  afar. 
It  was  Theron,  the  priest  whom  he  had  seen  one  morn- 
ing on  the  Acropolis,  and  whose  extraordinary  vigor  he 


204  S6NNICA 

had  admired.  But  in  spite  of  knowing  his  human  origin, 
he  could  not  overcome  the  terror  of  the  troops  at  the  in- 
stant when  they  saw  towering  above  all  the  helmets  that 
invulnerable  lion's  head  which  seemed  to  change  the 
course  of  the  arrows  and  stones. 

Moreover  the  besieged  counted  on  the  assistance  of  the 
phalaric.  It  was  well  known  that  among  the  mer- 
chants and  agriculturists  there  figured  men  expert  in 
war,  who  had  traveled  through  many  lands.  The  memory 
of  his  boyhood  companion,  Actseon,  the  Greek  adven- 
turer, surged  through  Hannibal's  mind.  He,  surely, 
must  be  the  introducer  of  the  phalaric,  a  dart  wrapped  in 
tow  and  dipped  in  pitch.  The  shaft  sped  blazing 
through  the  air  like  a  stream  of  fire,  with  its  long  iron 
head  capable  of  piercing  the  shield  and  the  cuirass,  and 
even  if  the  terrible  missile  should  not  penetrate  the 
armor,  its  flames  set  fire  to  the  clothing;  the  combat- 
ants threw  down  their  arms  to  put  out  the  fire,  and  thus 
stood  exposed  to  the  blows  of  the  enemy.  The  same  war- 
riors who  had  fought  against  the  most  determined  and 
barbaric  tribes  of  Iberia,  flung  away  their  shields  and 
fled  before  those  meteors  of  fire  which  came  from  the 
walls  of  Saguntum  whistling  and  scattering  sparks. 

Thus  time  passed;  the  besiegers  gained  nothing,  and 
Hannibal  was  dominated  by  a  galling  impatience.  Fire 
of  Baal!  He,  chained  to  these  walls  which  he  could 
not  make  his  own,  while  Hanno's  faction  was  conspir- 
ing in  Carthage,  preparing  the  downfall  of  the  Barcas 
if  he  should  fail  in  taking  Saguntum;  planning,  perhaps, 
his  delivery  to  Rome  when  she  should  demand  him  on 
finding  her  treaties  violated.  In  despair  he  threw  him- 
self back  once  more  upon  his  couch,  seeking  the  oblivion 


ASBYTE  AND  HANNIBAL  205 

of  sleep  ^7ith  the  eagerness  of  one  who  must  needs  forget. 
He  blew  out  the  light,  but  lay  open-eyed  in  the  darkness. 
The  bluish  glint  of  the  moon  filtered  through  an  opening 
in  the  cupola  of  his  tent,  shimmering  upon  the  cuirasses 
which  in  the  darkness  shone  like  phosphorescent  fishes. 
Outside,  the  nightingale  continued  singing. 

Hannibal  grew  frantic.  Accursed  bird  that  was  keep- 
ing him  awake !  He  could  sleep  in  the  din  of  battle !  Ac- 
customed from  boyhood  to  the  camp,  the  hoarse  songs  of 
the  mercenaries  and  the  whinnying  of  horses  would  fail 
to  arouse  him,  and  the  harsh  trumpet-blast  of  war  had 
been  his  lullaby.  But  the  sweet  song  of  that  bird,  its 
incessant  melodious  trill,  annoyed  him  like  the  buzzing 
of  a  hornet. 

He  sprang  from  his  couch;  he  groped  in  the  dark 
amid  the  litter  of  arms,  fabrics,  and  furniture;  he  burst 
out  through  the  doorway  of  his  tent,  and  the  fresh 
night  soothed  his  tempestuous  spirit. 

The  moon  was  shining  in  a  cloudless  sky;  the  breeze 
was  warm,  although  it  was  the  end  of  autumn;  stars 
scintillated;  the  nightingale's  trills  were  answered  by 
another  and  yet  another  bird,  throughout  the  expanse  of 
the  valley.  The  camp  lay  at  rest.  The  flames  were 
flickering  out  from  dying  bonfires  near  which  sol- 
diers were  sleeping  along  with  women  and  children  of 
the  army,  wrapped  in  rags  and  in  rich  stolen  fabrics ; 
the  horses  picketed  to  the  ground,  pointed  their  nodding 
heads  in  a  straight  line;  in  the  distance,  the  beleaguered 
city  crouched  dark  and  silent  as  if  asleep,  bui  u  faint 
glow  escaping  through  loopholes  in  its  walls  psioduced 
the  effect  of  half-open  eyes  watching  while  feigning 
sleep. 


206  SONNICA 

Hannibal  leaped  over  the  trusted  soldiers  who  slept 
near  the  door  of  his  tent.  They  raised  up  as  they  heard 
his  footsteps,  but  recognizing  the  chief,  lay  down  on 
the  ground  again  and  continued  snoring.  They  were 
veterans  from  Hamilcar's  wars,  who  looked  with  al- 
most religious  veneration  on  the  lion  cub  of  their  old 
captain. 

As  he  turned  the  corner  of  the  tent  he  drew  his  bow 
to  shoot  at  the  bird  hidden  in  the  foliage;  but  he  started 
in  surprise  on  seeing  a  white  figure  standing  near  the 
trunk  of  the  tree,  shining  in  the  moonlight. 

It  was  a  woman,  an  Amazon.  On  her  head  and  on 
her  breast  glistened  the  helmet  of  gold  and  the  cuirass 
of  scales;  her  white  linen  tunic  fell  over  her  limbs,  out- 
lining her  form,  and  her  strong  bare  arms  were  resting 
on  her  lance  with  its  shoe  driven  into  the  ground.  Her 
dark  eyes  were  fastened  on  Hannibal's  tent  with  strange, 
unblinking  persistence,  as  if  she  were  dreaming  awake, 
and  the  night-wind  lightly  swayed  her  floating  hair. 
Behind  her  stood  a  black  horse  with  glossy  coat,  nervous 
legs,  and  eyes  injected  with  blood,  destitute  of  saddle 
or  bridle,  his  mane  unbound;  he  was  bending  down  to 
lick  the  border  of  the  Amazon's  tunic  and  her  nude  feet, 
like  a  dog  which  followed  her  everywhere. 

"  Asbyte !"  exclaimed  Hannibal,  surprised  at  the  ap- 
parition. "What  are  you  doing  here?" 

The  queen  of  the  Amazons  seemed  to  awake,  and 
seeing  the  chief,  she  fixed  on  him  the  moist  and  impas- 
sioned gaze  of  her  large  eyes. 

"  I  could  not  sleep,"  she  said  with  a  voice  languid 
and  measured.  "  I  spent  the  first  part  of  the  night 
dreaming  horrible  dreams.  The  Goddess  Tanith  will 


ASBYTE  AND  HANNIBAL  207 

not  guard  my  repose,  and  I  have  seen  the  shade  of  my 
father  larbas  announcing  my  approaching  death." 

"  Death !"  exclaimed  Hannibal,  laughing.  "  Who 
thinks  of  death?" 

"  Am  I  then  immortal  ?  Do  I  not  fight  like  any  one  of 
your  soldiers?  I  hurl  myself  impetuously  through  for- 
ests of  lances;  feathered  shafts  hiss  around  me  like  a 
trailing  mantle  of  invisible  birds ;  I  scorn  the  phalarics 
with  their  streams  of  fire — but  some  day  I  shall  die; 
my  dreams  foretell  it." 

Asbyte,  as  if  fearing  to  show  too  great  melancholy  in 
the  presence  of  Hannibal,  added  bitterly : 

"  Let  death  come  when  it  will !  It  does  not  frighten 
me  as  it  does  the  merchants  of  Carthage  who  hate  you. 
If  it  disturbed  my  sleep  it  was  because  when  I  awoke  I 
thought  of  you.  I  cannot  explain  to  myself  why  I  thought 
that  you  also  might  die,  and  to  your  death,  Hannibal,  I 
cannot  be  resigned.  You  should  live  long  like  a  god.  I 
knew  that  you  sleep  alone  in  your  tent;  that,  to  better 
conceal  your  movements  you  keep  no  guards  to  watch 
while  you  slumber,  and  I  felt  the  need  of  doing  something 
for  you,  of  spending  the  night  leaning  on  my  lance  near 
your  couch  to  prevent  the  treachery  of  an  enemy." 

"  What  madness !"  exclaimed  the  African,  laughing. 

"  Hannibal,"  said  the  beautiful  Amazon  gravely, 
"  remember  Hasdrubal,  the  husband  of  your  sister.  The 
dagger  of  a  slave  was  enough  to  put  an  end  to  him." 

"  Hasdrubal  was  doomed  to  die,"  said  the  chieftain, 
with  the  conviction  of  fatalism.  "  The  fate  of  Carthage 
demanded  his  death.  It  was  necessary  that  Hasdrubal 
should  succumb  to  make  way  for  Hannibal.  But  Hannibal 
has  no  oue  to  replace  him,  and  he  shall  live  even  though 


208  S6NNICA 

he  were  to  sleep  surrounded  by  enemies.  My  sleep  is 
light  and  my  arm  is  sure ;  he  who  slips  into  the  tent  of 
Hannibal  enters  his  tomb." 

Asbyte  contemplated  with  loving  admiration  the  young 
hero,  who  had  flung  down  his  bow,  and  while  he  spoke 
of  his  strength  he  raised  his  powerful  arms,  and  the 
moon  enlarged  their  shadow  in  such  wise  that  as  they 
moved  he  seemed  to  embrace  the  camp,  the  city,  the 
whole  valley,  like  a  supernatural  being. 

The  Amazon  drew  near  leaning  her  lance  against  the 
trunk  of  a  tree.  On  laying  down  her  weapon  she  seemed 
to  throw  off  her  warlike  mien,  and  she  approached  Han- 
nibal with  feminine  sweetness,  gazing  upon  him  with  the 
moist,  timid  eyes  of  the  antelopes  that  frisk  about  the 
oases  of  her  native  land. 

"  Besides,"  she  murmured,  "  I  came  because  I  needed 
to  be  >near  you.  To  guard  your  sleep  gives  me  inde- 
scribable joy.  I  feel  the  delight  of  an  exalting  sacri- 
fice in  keeping  vigil  over  you  when  you  know  it  not.  I 
never  have  an  opportunity  to  speak  with  you.  By  day 
I  see  you  on  horseback  among  the  Carthaginians  with 
their  golden  armor,  who  flock  around  you ;  on  foot  direct- 
ing those  who  push  the  engines  of  war,  helping  them, 
often,  to  excite  their  enthusiasm;  but  I  see  you  always 
from  afar,  as  a  chieftain,  as  a  hero,  never  as  a  man.  Do 
you  remember  those  days  in  the  citadel  of  New  Carthage 
when  I  had  just  arrived  from  Africa  with  the  reinforce- 
ments which  caused  you  to  utter  shouts  of  enthusiasm?" 

"  Asbyte !  Asbyte !"  murmured  Hannibal,  repelling  her 
with  a  movement  of  his  arms,  as  if  the  recollection  an- 
noyed him. 

"  Do  not  be  angry,  Hannibal ;  listen  to  me.    I  must 


ASBYTE  AND  HANNIBAL  209 

speak  to  you.  Give  me  at  least  the  consolation  of  seeing 
you  near,  of  telling  you  what  I  feel.  If  not,  why  have 
I  come  to  Iberia,  joining  my  fate  to  yours?" 

The  chieftain  glanced  around,  as  if  fearing  that  some- 
one might  be  listening  to  his  conversation  with  the 
Amazon. 

"  Fear  not,"  said  Asbyte,  divining  his  thought.  "  Mago, 
your  brother,  sleeps  far  from  here  with  Maherbal,  the 
favorite  captain.  My  Numidians  are  at  the  opposite 
end  of  the  camp.  You  surround  yourself  only  with 
Iberians  in  order  to  encourage  their  fidelity  with  such 
a  proof  of  confidence,  and  they  do  not  understand  Phoeni- 
cian." 

Reassured  by  Asbyte's  answer,  Hannibal  lowered  his 
head  and  crossed  his  arms,  resigned  to  listen. 

"  You  are  as  hard  and  disdainful  as  a  god,"  sighed  the 
Amazon.  The  woman  who  loves  you  feels  within  her  the 
fire  of  Moloch,  and  you  will  not  deign  to  quench  it  even 
with  a  glance  of  kindness,  nor  with  a  smile.  You  have 
a  heart  of  bronze;  your  eyes  ever  gaze  aloft, 
and  you  cannot  see  those  who  crawl  to  approach 
you.  You  imagine  that  you  have  made  me  hap- 
py because  you  lead  me  from  battle  to  battle, 
from  conquest  to  conquest,  and  you  consider  that  my 
happiness  consists  in  having  my  hands,  which  used  to  be 
adorned  with  rings,  calloused  by  the  lance ;  my  face,  which 
in  other  times  was  covered  with  costly  unguents  brought 
from  Egypt  by  my  caravans,  hardened  by  the  cheek- 
pieces  of  the  helmet.  I  have  become  rude  and  fierce 
like  a  man.  Though  I  possess  gardens  far  away  where  an 
eternal  springtime  dwells,  I  have  suffered  hunger  and 
thirst  at  your  side.  I  know  not  who  I  am;  I  doubt  my 


210  SONNICA 

sex,  seeing  my  body  made  ugly  by  fatigue.  My  skin, 
over  which  the  hands  of  my  slaves  used  to  slip  as  if  it 
were  a  mirror,  is  now  as  hard  as  that  of  a  crocodile. 
If  I  do  not  seem  as  hideous  as  the  troop  of  wasted 
females  which  follows  your  soldiers  it  is  because  my 
youth  has  not  forsaken  me.  And  all  this  for  whom? 
For  you  who  will  not  deign  to  look  at  me;  for  you  who 
have  forgotten  our  first  meeting;  for  you  who  see  in 
Asbyte  only  a  good  friend,  an  esteemed  ally,  who  came 
to  you  bringing  a  strong  array  of  fighters.  Hannibal! 
Lightning-flash  of  Baal !  You  are  as  great  as  a  demigod, 
but  you  do  not  know  human  beings.  You  see  in  me  only 
an  Amazon,  a  warrior  virgin  like  those  of  whom  the 
Grecian  poets  sing — but  I  am  a  woman!" 

Asbyte  sadly  and  silently  searched  the  face  of  the 
pensive  Hannibal. 

"  You  have  forgotten,  perhaps,  how  we  met,"  she 
added,  presently,  with  melancholy  tone.  "  I  dwelt  happy 
in  my  oasis  until  I  rushed  to  your  side,  drawn  by  some 
irresistible  charm  that  emanates  from  your  person.  I, 
the  daughter  of  larbas  the  Garamantan,  wearied  of  the 
comforts  of  my  house,  of  the  songs  of  my  slaves,  and  of 
the  splendors  which  the  merchants  flung  from  the  cara- 
vans at  my  feet,  went  into  the  desert  hunting  lions  with 
larbas,  and  the  warriors  marveled  when  the  most  sav- 
age colts  trembled,  obedient  and  timid,  as  soon  as  they 
felt  me  on  their  backs.  I  was  strong,  and  I  was  beauti- 
ful. Scarcely  had  I  grown  out  of  my  girlhood  than  the 
bravest  of  the  Numidian  sheikhs  came  seeking  hospital- 
ity of  my  father  that  they  might  see  me,  and  they  told 
of  their  flocks  and  of  their  warriors,  proposing  an 
alliance  to  larbas.  And  I,  indifferent,  cold,  kept  my 


ASBYTE  AND  HANNIBAL  211 

thoughts  ever  on  Carthage  where  I  once  had  been  in 
company  with  my  father  to  adjust  the  tribute  with  the 
rich  men  of  the  Senate.  Ah,  the  magnificent  city,  the 
immense  city,  with  her  temples  as  huge  as  towns  and  her 
gigantic  gods !" 

Wandering  from  the  trend  of  her  ideas,  she  fell  into 
enthusiastic  reminiscence  of  Carthage,  the  great  city 
which  after  all  her  travels  and  warlike  adventures  was 
still  a  vivid  memory.  She  called  to  mind  the  dwellings 
of  the  rich  Carthaginians,  with  their  polychrome  walls 
finished  by  brilliant  spheres  of  metal  and  of  glass;  the 
great  marble  temples,  with  their  mysterious  groves 
through  which  resounded  the  lyres  and  cymbals  of  the 
priests;  the  temple  of  Tanith  surrounded  by  rose  gar- 
dens, perfumed  hiding  places  which  served  as  shelters 
for  the  sacred  phallic  rites  in  honor  of  the  goddess ;  and 
then  the  port,  the  immense  port,  with  a  whole  city  of 
ships  which  poured  into  the  metropolis  a  continual 
stream  of  riches  from  all  over  the  world,  tin  from  Brit- 
tania,  copper  from  Italy,  silver  from  Iberia,  gold  from 
Ophir,  frankincense  from  Saba,  amber  from  northern 
seas,  purple  from  Tyre,  ebony  and  ivory  from  Ethiopia, 
spices  and  pearls  from  India,  and  brilliant  fabrics  from 
nameless  and  mysterious  peoples  of  Asia  who  dwelt 
at  the  uttermost  borders  of  the  world,  wrapped  in  the 
mists  of  legend. 

She  adored  the  city,  not  only  for  its  splendors,  but 
far  more  because  it  harbored  partisans  of  the  Barcas, 
the  supporters  of  the  heroic  family  whose  deeds  the 
Numidian  warriors  recounted  in  the  moonlight,  and  of 
whom  Hannibal,  who  added  renown  to  his  name  in  the 
wars  of  Iberia  when  still  a  boy,  was  the  glorious  descend- 
ant. 


212  S6NNICA 

"  My  people  ever  loved  your  people,"  continued  the 
Amazon.  "  If  my  father  larbas  submitted  to  the  domina- 
tion of  Carthage,  it  was  because  at  the  head  of  it  was 
Hamilcar,  an  African,  a  Numidian  like  ourselves.  I 
hate  the  Carthaginian  merchants  as  bitterly  as  you  do — 
those  ancient  Phanicians  from  the  rock-bound  Aradus 
who  prospered  and  reproduced  like  worms,  afterwards 
to  cross  the  sea  and  take  possession  of  our  beautiful 
soil  of  Africa.  I  hate  the  ship  figured  upon  so  many  of 
your  coins  and  temples,  because  it  is  the  sign  of  the 
avaricious  people  who  came  to  exploit  us,  but  I  adore 
the  Carthaginian  charger,  the  Numidian  horse,  the  sym- 
bol of  our  past." 

Then  she  spoke  of  the  charm  which  the  glory  of  the 
Barcas  had  exercised  over  her  mind  from  afar.  She 
had  loved  Hannibal  without  realizing  it,  influenced  by 
tales  of  his  achievements  which  had  reached  her  ears. 
She  imagined  him  fighting  like  a  young  lion  at  his  father's 
side,  among  herds  of  bulls  with  flaming  horns,  and  among 
burning  chariots  which  the  Iberians  drove  against 
the  Carthaginian  invader;  she  thought  of  him,  mad 
with  fury,  before  the  body  of  Hamilcar,  and  then  lan- 
guishing from  inaction  beside  the  beautiful  Hasdrubal, 
conciliatory  and  pacific,  until  the  moment  when,  his 
brother  being  assassinated  by  the  dagger  of  a  Gaul,  the 
whole  army  acclaimed  the  youth  as  chieftain. 

Her  father  larbas  had  just  died,  and  she,  now  become 
queen  of  her  tribes,  heard  that  Hannibal,  thirsting 
for  glory  and  for  combat,  was  isolated  in  the  fortress  of 
New  Carthage,  with  no  other  troops  than  the  remnant 
of  the  army  which  Hamilcar  had  taken  to  Iberia.  The 
rich  of  Carthage,  enemies  of  the  Barcas,  fearing  the  popu- 


ASBYTE  AND  HANNIBAL  213 

lace,  dared  not  deprive  Hamilcar's  son  of  the  chieftancy 
which  his  soldiers  tendered  him;  they  confirmed  it  by 
their  silence,  but  they  kept  him  isolated,  without  re- 
sources, left  to  his  own  devices,  so  that  the  natives 
should  put  an  end  to  him,  or  at  the  most,  that  he  might 
conquer  a  small  territory  on  the  Iberian  coast  in  which 
the  ambition  of  the  Barcas  would  gradually  become  ex- 
tinguished. 

"  Then  I  flew  to  your  side,"  continued  Asbyte.  "  I 
wished  to  know  the  man  and  to  save  the  hero.  I  turned 
over  a  great  part  of  my  riches  to  the  merchants  of  Car- 
thage for  the  loan  of  their  ships;  I  kindled  the  enthu- 
siasm of  the  most  warlike  of  my  tribes  to  follow  me; 
even  their  daughters  imitated  me,  and  went  lion  hunt- 
ing, galloping  all  day  long,  lance  in  hand,  drawn  on 
by  my  mad  adventure,  and  one  afternoon,  when  per- 
haps you  were  weeping,  believing  your  hopes  of  glory 
dead,  you  beheld  from  the  height  of  the  citadel  of  New 
Carthage  a  whole  fleet  coming  from  Africa.  Do  you 
remember?  Tell  me!  Do  you  remember  how  you  received 
me?" 

"Yes,  and  I  shall  never  forget  it,"  said  Hannibal 
gently.  "Those  days  are  my  happiest  memory." 

"  You  received  me  as  if  I  were  a  divinity,  as  if  Ash- 
toreth,  who  illumines  our  nights  had  descended  from 
the  sky  to  give  you  her  protection.  You  were  oblivious  to 
my  warriors  and  saw  only  me,  and  scorning  your  am- 
bitions for  the  moment  we  spent  the  nights  lying  on  the 
terrace  of  the  citadel,  and  the  stars  were  witnesses  to 
our  interminable  embraces.  But,  alas!  that  joy  was  like 
the  roses  from  Egypt  which  last  but  a  day  in  the  vases 
of  the  rich  women  of  Carthage.  Soon  the  pride  of  con- 


214  S6NNICA 

quest  returned  to  you,  the  ambition  of  the  chieftain.  You 
admired  the  training  of  my  Numidians  more  than  my 
beauty  when,  of  an  afternoon,  outside  the  walls  they 
astounded  your  old  warriors  by  hurling  darts  while 
kneeling  on  their  horses,  which  ran  so  fast  that  they 
raised  the  dust  with  their  bellies.  We  went  out  to 
fight  with  the  Olcades,  the  Vaccsei,  all  those  Iberian 
tribes  which  yesterday  you  fought  and  which  to-day  fol- 
low you.  Led  by  you  I  fought  like  a  soldier,  and  I  con- 
sidered myself  happy  when  on  the  long  marches,  imitat- 
ing our  horses  which  lovingly  put  their  heads  together, 
you  bent  toward  me,  striking  your  helmet  against  mine 
to  kiss  me.  Finally — not  even  that!  What  am  I?  One 
warrior  more  in  your  camp;  a  friend  worthy  of  grati- 
tude, who  brought  you  assistance  on  seeing  you  aban- 
doned by  Carthage,  with  no  other  force  than  a  handful 
of  veterans  and  some  elephants.  In  the  battles  if  you  see 
me  in  danger  you  fly  to  defend  me;  but  afterwards,  in 
the  camp,  on  the  long  marches,  a  few  words  of  friend- 
ship, a  cold  smile  as  to  any  one  of  your  captains.  Your 
heart  has  closed  against  me.  Am  I  not  Asbyte,  she 
whom  you  knew  in  New  Carthage?  Do  you  not  love 
me  when  you  see  me  made  ugly  and  hardened  by  war? 
Tell  me  that,  and  I  will  become  a  woman  again,  I  will 
bedeck  myself  with  jewels,  I  will  abandon  my  Amazons 
and  surround  myself  with  Greek  slaves,  I  will  cover 
myself  with  ointments  which  will  change  my  skin  back 
to  its  pristine  freshness,  and  I  will  follow  you  on  your 
marches  lying  on  a  litter  with  curtains  of  purple." 

"No!"  Hannibal  made  haste  to  reply,  with  enthusi- 
asm.   "  I  love  you  as  you  are.    The  beloved  of  Hannibal 


ASBYTE  AND  HANNIBAL  215 

can  only  be  an  Amazon  like  yourself,  who  have  made 
many  warriors  fall  beneath  your  charger." 

"  Then  why  do  you  flee  from  me?  Why  do  you  aban- 
don me,  why  forget  the  sweetness  of  our  early  love? 
See  that  nightingale,  at  which  a  moment  ago  you  aimed 
your  arrow!  In  the  midst  of  an  army  camp,  before  a 
besieged  city,  it  sings  and  sings,  calling  to  its  mate, 
heedless  of  the  horrors  of  war,  unconscious  of  the  stench 
of  blood  which  rises  from  these  fields.  Let  us  be  like 
him !  Let  us  make  war ;  but  let  us  also  love  each  other, 
and  let  us  ride  through  the  battles  with  our  bodies 
thrilled  with  love !" 

"  No,  Asbyte,"  said  the  African  gloomily.  "  That 
felicity  is  impossible;  I  love  you,  but  we  cannot  under- 
stand each  other.  You  complain  because  I  see  in  you 
only  an  Amazon,  when  you  are  a  woman;  you,  in  return, 
see  in  me  only  a  man,  and  I  am  more  than  man.  I 
am  not  the  demigod  you  imagine;  I  am  something  more; 
I  am  a  formidable  machine  of  war,  without  heart  or 
sense  of  pity,  created  only  to  crush  men  and  nations 
who  obstruct  my  passage." 

Hannibal  said  this  with  conviction,  beating  his  firm 
chest,  straightening  his  figure  with  sombre  majesty  as  he 
declared  his  destructive  power. 

"  I  would  love  you  if  I  were  a  man  capable  of  wasting 
my  time  in  such  sweet  folly,  but  when  have  you  seen 
the  eagle  spend  all  his  time  in  the  nest  caressing  his 
mate,  without  desire  to  soar  aloft  and  fall  upon  the 
quarry  ?  Those  who  have  talons  cannot  caress,  and  I  was 
born  to  make  prey  of  the  world,  or  else  for  the  world  to 
crush  me.  Love?  A  sweet  occupation,  I  grant  you!  In 
the  past,  full  of  blood  and  of  battles,  the  only  oases  of 


216  S6NNICA 

my  joy  were  those  days  in  New  Carthage  when  I  be- 
lieved that  Tanith  herself,  with  all  her  divine  beauty, 
had  deigned  to  come  down  to  my  arms.  But  that  is 
over;  Hannibal  has  other  loves  that  attract  him  and 
dominate  him;  he  loves  his  sword,  he  loves  all  that  the 
enemy  possesses,  and  he  cannot  sleep  with  tranquility 
for  thinking  of  Rome,  whom  he  desires  to  crush  within 
these  arms!  How  far  away  she  is!" 

The  Amazon  made  a  gesture  of  despair  at  the  passion 
with  which  the  chieftain  declared  his  ambitions. 

"  You  might  complain,"  continued  Hannibal,  "  if  you 
saw  that  my  thoughts  were  filled  with  the  image  of 
another  woman.  Whom  have  I  loved  but  you?  To 
draw  to  me  those  barbarians  who  follow  me,  to  league 
them  by  ties  of  blood  to  my  enterprises,  I  took  to  wife 
the  daughter  of  an  Iberian  kinglet.  Yes,  and  where  is 
she?  Does  she  follow  me  as  do  you?  She  remains  in 
New  Carthage,  spinning  her  gay-colored  wools,  and  she 
scarcely  thinks  of  me,  because  never  for  a  moment  did 
the  charms  of  the  barbarian  virgin  move  me.  I  love 
only  you.  Hannibal  can  fall  tremulous  with  passion  only 
into  arms  like  yours,  hardened  by  use  of  the  lance.  But 
be  worthy  of  him!  Think  not  as  do  other  women;  seek 
not  new  lovers;  unite  yourself  to  me,  so  that  both  to- 
gether we  can  think  of  possessing  and  of  hating,  of 
making  the  world  ours !" 

As  if  exalted  by  his  own  words,  the  African,  with 
glowing  eyes,  approached  Asbyte,  caressing  her  arms, 
while  he  breathed  in  her  face  his  ambitious  plans. 

"  I  must  be  lord  of  the  world !  I  want  Carthage,  only 
Carthage,  to  exist  upon  the  earth,  because  Carthage 
is  my  native  land!  Had  I  been  born  a  Roman,  Rome 


ASBYTE  AND  HANNIBAL  217 

should  be  mistress !  With  my  name  I  mean  to  obliterate 
the  memory  of  Alexander  the  Macedonian,  to  be  greater 
than  he,  to  conquer  wider  territories,  and  I  dream  of 
undertakings  less  easy  than  dominating  the  Asiatics, 
weakened  by  the  softening  tendency  of  the  sun  and  of 
riches.  Rome  is  sturdy,  she  is  stronger  than  our  repub- 
lic of  merchants  corroded  by  avarice  and  pleasure;  her 
hands  are  calloused  by  the  plow  handle  and  the  lance — 
then  against  Rome  am  I  headed !  Alexander !  How 
weak  is  his  glory !  It  is  easy  to  march  to  the  conquest 
of  the  world  when  one  is  the  son  of  Philip,  who  leaves 
as  inheritance  an  army  seasoned  by  a  hundred  vic- 
tories, when  one  has  an  obedient  kingdom  at  one's  back, 
and  even  in  childhood  has  the  good  fortune  to  receive 
instruction  from  Aristotle.  The  difficult  thing  is  to  be 
Hannibal,  abandoned  by  my  country,  with  no  other  re- 
sources than  those  I  can  find  for  myself;  having  to  face 
at  the  same  time  the  fury  of  the  enemy  and  the  treach- 
ery and  intrigue  of  my  fellow  countrymen,  reared  far 
from  my  father,  among  astute  merchants  who,  keeping 
me  as  hostage,  sought  to  avoid  future  danger  by  divert- 
ing my  warlike  instincts;  with  no  other  culture  than  a 
little  Greek  which  Sosilon  the  Spartan  taught  me;  but 
despite  all  this,  Hannibal  wars  with  fate,  and  he  is 
conquering.  If  Alexander  is  admired  for  his  conquests 
in  the  land  of  the  rising  sun,  some  day  the  world  will  be 
startled  at  seeing  me,  after  having  crushed  men,  domin- 
ating Nature  herself  by  crossing  the  loftiest  glaciers  and 
changing  the  positions  of  mountains  to  continue  on  my 
way.  Look  at  me  well,  Asbyte,  and  you  will  be  con- 
vinced that  it  is  as  useless  to  try  to  arouse  human  senti- 
ments in  my  heart  as  to  soften  the  breast  of  the  enormous 


218  S6NNICA 

bronze  Moloch  which  we  have  in  Carthage!  A  moment 
ago,  in  the  solitude  of  my  tent,  I  felt  weak  and  dis- 
heartened, but  talking  with  you  revives  my  strength. 
Look  at  me  well;  you  are  in  the  presence  of  one  who 
fears  neither  men  nor  gods !" 

"  The  gods !"  exclaimed  Asbyte  with  a  throb  of  terror. 
"  Do  you  not  fear  that  they  will  punish  you?" 

A  peal  of  laughter,  sarcastic,  tinged  with  deep  scorn, 
answered  the  Amazon. 

"  The  gods !"  exclaimed  Hannibal.  "  I  live  among 
warriors  of  all  nations.  Each  one  adores  his  own  gods, 
and  I  know  so  many,  so  many,  that  I  do  not  believe  in 
any  of  them,  and  I  jest  at  them  all.  In  Carthage  I 
adored  Moloch;  here  you  have  often  seen  me  dedicate 
sacrifices  to  the  Iberian  divinities,  to  attract  the  people 
to  me.  If  some  day  I  enter  as  a  conqueror  that  city 
where  my  thought  continually  dwells,  the  populace  shall 
acclaim  me,  seeing  me  climb  to  the  Capitol  to  offer 
thanks  to  their  gods.  I  believe  only  in  force  and  strat- 
egy. I  have  but  one  tutelary  god — war,  who  makes 
giants  of  men,  giving  them  the  omnipotence  of  divinity. 
If  on  becoming  lord  of  the  earth,  I  find  no  one  with  whom 
to  fight,  I  shall  die,  thinking  the  world  empty !" 

The  Amazon  bowed  her  head,  overcome  with  sadness. 

"  I  realize  now  that  you  will  never  be  mine,  Hannibal ! 
You  love  war  above  all  things  else,  and  will  be  faithful 
to  it  as  long  as  you  live*  You  are  indeed  a  bird  of  prey ; 
the  momentary  love  of  a  slave  woman  satisfies  you;  the 
wounded  and  weeping  woman  who  falls  into  the  power  of 
your  soldiers  as  they  enter  a  city  through  a  breach  in  its 
walls  satiates  you.  You  will  never  understand  love 
and  its  sweetness." 


ASBYTE  AND  HANNIBAL  219 

Hannibal  shrugged  his  shoulders  scornfully. 

"  I  love  victory,  success !  The  laurel  which  Greek 
heroes  bound  upon  their  brows  in  the  triumph  has  for 
me  a  more  penetrating  perfume  than  the  roses  of  the 
poets.  Cease  your  laments,  Asbyte;  be  a  warrior,  and  for- 
get that  you  are  a  woman;  I  will  love  you  more.  You 
shall  be  my  brother  in  arms.  Why  think  of  those  nights 
of  love  when  I  was  still  in  misfortune  and  lacking  in 
soldiers,  now  that  all  Iberia  follows  me  and  I  see  my 
dreams  of  world-power  beginning  to  be  realized?  Look 
over  this  camp,  where  infinite  tongues  are  spoken,  and 
where  each  tribe  dresses  in  a  different  costume.  They 
flow  in  like  streams  which  swell  the  torrent.  Each  day 
new  warriors  appear.  How  many  are  they?  No  one  knows. 
Maherbal  said  yesterday  that  there  were  a  hundred  and 
twenty  thousand ;  I  believe  that  soon  there  will  be  a  hun- 
dred and  eighty  thousand.  Blind  faith  in  Hannibal  draws 
them  on;  they  feel  that  with  me  they  march  to  victory; 
perhaps  their  gods  have  told  them  that  this  is  but  the  be- 
ginning of  a  series  of  achievements  which  will  astound 
the  world.  Ponder  over  it,  Asbyte!  These  peoples 
have  spent  their  lives  fighting  among  themselves;  they 
hated  each  other,  and  yet  the  sword  of  Hannibal  is  a 
shepherd's  crook  which  guides  them  like  a  common  flock; 
and  after  this  miracle  would  you  have  me  waste  my  time 
loving  you,  staying  in  my  tent  lying  at  your  feet,  my 
head  upon  your  knees,  listening  to  you  while  you  sing 
the  dreamy  songs  of  the  oasis  ?  No !  Lightning  of  Baal ! 
The  city  stands  before  us,  mocking  at  the  greatest  army 
ever  gathered  together  on  the  fields  of  Iberia,  and  this 
must  stop.  The  hempen  tent  must  crush  the  tower  of 
stone.  Sharpen  well  your  lance,  daughter  of  larbas ;  pre- 
pare your  faithful  steed,  my  beloved!  That  mysterious 


220  S6NNICA 

breeze  which  I  always  perceive  on  the  eve  of  a  victory 
blows  around  me.  This  very  day  we  shall  enter  Sagun- 
tum." 

He  glanced  to  the  east  as  n  impatient  for  the  coming 
of  dawn. 

The  moon  shone  less  clearly;  the  sky  darkened,  its 
blue  becoming  more  dense,  and  on  the  side  toward  the 
sea  a  broad  belt  of  violet  light  appeared. 

"  It  will  soon  be  morning,"  continued  the  African. 
"  This  night,  Asbyte,  you  shall  sleep  in  the  ivory  couch 
of  some  rich  Greek  woman,  and  you  shall  have  at  your 
feet  the  Elders  of  the  city  to  serve  you  as  slaves." 

"  No,  Hannibal.  This  day  which  is  now  beginning 
will  never  end  for  me.  I  still  see  the  shade  of  larbas, 
as  it  appeared  to  me  before  the  first  cock-crow.  I  shall 
die,  Hannibal !" 

"Die!  Can  you  believe  that?  Before  the  enemy 
reaches  you  he  must  pass  over  Hannibal's  body.  You 
are  my  brother  in  arms !  /  will  be  at  your  side !" 

"  Even  so,  I  must  die.   My  father  cannot  deceive  me." 

"  Are  you  afraid  ?  Are  you  trembling,  daughter  of 
the  Garamantan  ?  Ah,  at  last  the  woman !  Stay  in  your 
tent !  Do  not  approach  the  walls !  I  will  go  and  seek 
you  when  the  moment  arrives  for  you  to  enter  the  city 
like  a  lady !" 

Asbyte  straightened  her  graceful  figure  as  if  she  had 
just  received  a  lashing.  Her  large  eyes  glowed  with 
anger. 

"  I  will  leave  you,  Hannibal.  Day  is  beginning  to 
dawn.  Make  preparation  for  the  assault,  and  you  will 
find  me  ready  when  your  troops  give  the  signal.  Know- 
ing that  I  am  going  to  die,  I  wish  to  ask  you  for  one 


ASBYTE  AND  HANNIBAL 


kiss,  the  last  —  No,  do  not  approach  me.  I  do  not  want 
it  now;  it  would  do  me  harm.  If  I  fall  and  you  can  find 
me  among  the  slain,  you  will  know  what  my  last  thought 
has  been." 

Leaning  on  her  lance  she  moved  away  between  the 
rows  of  tents,  followed  by  the  black  horse,  which 
sniffed  at  her  footprints  in  faithful  devotion. 

Day  was  breaking.  The  camp  fires  were  nearly  ex- 
tinguished, and  around  the  dying  embers  the  men  could 
be  seen  arising  from  the  ground,  stretching  their  be- 
numbed limbs,  and  shaking  out  the  pieces  of  cloth  in 
which  they  had  been  wrapped.  Horses  whinnied,  tugging 
at  their  stake  ropes,  and  the  soldiers  set  them  free,  driv- 
ing them  to  the  river  to  water  and  clean  them. 

Along  every  road  huge  carts  were  approaching  the 
camp  laden  with  provisions  and  forage,  and  the  creaking 
of  their  axles  mingled  with  the  songs  of  the  soldiers,  who 
had  arisen  in  good  spirits  and  recalled  their  distant 
homes,  singing  in  their  native  tongues. 

It  was  a  confusion  of  voices  and  cries.  Each  tribe 
camped  by  itself;  one  people  greeted  the  other  with  joy- 
ous shouts.  From  every  side  floated  odors  of  naked, 
sweaty  flesh,  and  of  strange  stews  boiling  in  the  pots; 
the  hammers  of  the  carpenters  echoed  loudly  as  they 
worked  upon  the  siege-engines  which  would  soon  be 
hurling  stones  and  darts  against  the  walls.  Warriors 
in  flowing  mantles,  mounted  on  prancing  steeds,  galloped 
between  the  city  and  the  camp,  examining  the  battle- 
ments of  Saguntum,  reddened  by  the  sun's  first  rays, 
where  the  defenders  were  beginning  to  stir  among  the 
merlons.  Hannibal  with  uncovered  head  was  sitting  on 
a  remnant  of  a  wall,  the  ruin  of  a  villa  demolished  by 
the  besiegers,  also  studying  the  city. 


SONNICA 


He  was  resolved  to  begin  the  attack  as  soon  as  his 
army  had  finished  making  the  morning  preparations. 
Fifteen  hundred  Africans,  armed  with  pickaxes,  were 
gathering  on  the  outskirts  of  the  camp.  They  were 
going  to  attack  that  portion  of  the  city  which  threw  its 
ramparts  into  the  level,  open  plain,  thereby  permitting 
unobstructed  approach  to  its  base.  In  other  divisions 
of  the  camp  the  Celtiberian  infantry  was  forming  with 
long  ladders  to  attempt  the  walls  on  many  sides  at  once. 
The  engines  of  war  advanced,  the  catapults,  with  the 
thick  bow  tightly  drawn  by  elastic  cords,  ready  to  fling 
the  stone  deposited  in  the  groove  of  the  long  arm;  the 
battering-rams  vibrating  on  their  chains  as  they  moved. 
The  walking-towers,  light,  with  walls  of  interlaced 
osiers,  trundled  upon  massive  disks  crowned  by  the 
shields  of  the  besiegers  who  concealed  themselves  behind 
them  to  hurl  their  missiles. 

Hannibal  hurried  to  his  tent,  passing  between  the 
cavalrymen  who  were  deliberately  grooming  their  horses 
and  polishing  their  weapons,  knowing  that  they  were 
not  to  take  part  in  the  assault  until  the  last  moment. 
The  chieftain  armed  himself  lightly.  He  put  on  a  short 
lorica  of  bronze  scales,  adjusted  his  helmet,  selected 
a  shield,  and  on  leaving  his  tent  he  met  Maherbal  and 
his  brother  Mago,  in  charge  of  the  reserves  who  remained 
in  the  camp. 

"  Your  legs  are  unprotected,"  said  his  brother.  "  Are 
you  not  going  to  cover  them  with  greaves  ?" 

"  No,"  replied  the  chieftain  spiritedly.  "  We  are 
going  to  make  an  assault,  and  to  climb  over  the  fallen 
walls  one  must  have  his  legs  free.  The  missiles  will 
respect  me  as  ever." 


ASBYTE  AND  HANNIBAL  223 

As  he  walked  out  of  the  camp  he  thought  he  saw  the 
queen  of  the  Amazons  standing  between  two  tents,  fol- 
lowing him  with  saddened  eyes ;  but  Asbyte,  when  her 
gaze  met  Hannibal's,  moved  away  and  turned  her  back 
upon  him  haughtily. 

Trumpets  blew,  and  the  army  stirred,  marching  against 
the  city. 

The  mantelets  rolled  forward,  veritable  parapets  of 
wood,  through  the  interstices  of  which  the  bowmen  shot. 
Under  cover  of  these  portable  bulwarks  the  Africans 
armed  with  pickaxes  advanced,  while  in  other  directions 
throughout  the  valley  hurried  the  Celtiberians,  carry- 
ing their  ladders  in  front  of  them. 

In  an  instant  the  walls  were  manned  with  defenders. 
Over  the  merlons  appeared  sinewy  arms  hurling  missiles, 
slings  swirled  discharging  stones,  and  bows  bent  followed 
by  sharp  hisses. 

Hannibal,  to  animate  the  assailants,  marched  behind 
the  fifteen  hundred  Africans,  laughing  at  the  projectiles 
which  struck  the  wooden  sides  of  the  mantelets.  Several 
nights,  dragging  himself  on  his  belly,  and  at  the  risk 
of  being  taken  prisoner,  he  had  reached  the  foot  of  that 
rampart  which  projected  on  the  valley  side,  and  which 
formed  the  strongest  wall  of  the  city.  The  base  was 
composed  of  great  stones  laid  in  clay.  The  chieftain 
being  convinced  that  it  was  difficult  to  scale  the  walls, 
decided  to  open  a  breach  through  the  foundation  by  un- 
dermining the  reddish  rampart  before  which  his  army  had 
been  confounded. 

As  they  drew  near  it  the  Africans  abandoned  the 
shelter  of  the  mantelets  and  hurled  themselves  furiously 
against  the  barrier  of  enormous  stones.  Naked,  black, 


S6NNICA 


shouting,  raising  and  lowering  their  muscular  arms  which 
ended  in  glittering  iron-pointed  pickaxes,  they  looked 
like  infernal  spirits  sent  by  the  Cabiric  gods  of 
Carthage  for  the  destruction  of  the  city.  Stubborn  and 
tenacious  in  their  work  of  destruction,  they  growled 
and  picked,  insensible  to  the  blows  which  fell  from 
above. 

The  beleaguered  people,  infuriated  by  this  audacity, 
scorned  the  Balearic  slingers  and  archers  who  from  a 
distance  aimed  over  the  merlons,  and  stepping  into  the 
crenels  they  cast  down  missiles  and  stones  which,  falling 
vertically,  never  failed  to  claim  their  victims.  The 
Africans  tumbled  over  with  broken  heads  or  crushed 
backs;  arms  and  legs  snapped  like  reeds  beneath  the 
weight  of  the  stones,  and  more  than  one  assailant  was 
pinned  to  the  ground  by  a  dart  which  passed  through  his 
back.  Over  the  palpitating  bodies,  the  mangled  flesh, 
the  blood  mixed  with  the  clay  from  the  walls,  rushed 
fresh-  assailants,  grasping  the  pickaxes  from  the  hands 
of  the  dying,  and  taking  up  the  work  of  destruction, 
pounding  on  the  wall,  beating  it  furiously  as  if  it  were 
an  enemy  standing  before  them.  Africans,  Celtiberians, 
Gauls,  men  of  all  colors  and  races  crowded  together, 
each  cursing  in  his  own  language,  frothing  at  the  mouth 
with  fury,  with  death  hovering  above  them  every  in- 
stant, and  surrounded  by  a  din  of  howls  and  lamentations. 
Tormented  by  falling  stones  and  blazing  phalarics  which 
set  fire  to  their  clothing  and  clung  to  their  naked  flesh, 
roasting  them  until  they  writhed  in  agony,  they  rushed 
to  the  river  like  animated  torches. 

Now  a  block  in  the  wall  was  givfng  way  !  Now  it 
rolled  out  of  place!  The  most  important  thing  was  to 


ASBYTE  AND  HANNIBAL 


remove  the  first;  after  it  the  others  would  follow. 
The  besiegers  burst  into  exclamations  of  savage  joy; 
they  heard  Hannibal's  voice  encouraging  them;  but 
before  raising  their  heads  to  rest  a  moment,  a  deafening 
howl  arose  among  them.  It  was  raining,  but  raining 
fiery,  infernal  drops  which  penetrated  the  bodies  of 
of  the  men  like  interminable  knives.  Up  there  on  the 
walls  a  fire  was  smoking.  The  merchants  were  melting 
the  great  ingots  of  silver  from  their  vaults,  pouring 
the  molten  metal  like  a  rain  of  death  upon  those  who 
dared  destroy  the  city  walls. 

The  assailants  fell  back,  roaring  with  fury,  and  sought 
refuge  behind  the  mantelets.  Hannibal  raised  his 
sword,  striving  with  his  blows  to  force  them  back  to 
work,  but  in  vain  he  exhorted  them,  haranguing  of 
victory  and  of  the  necessity  of  destroying  the  wall;  his 
soldiers  retreated  without  turning  their  backs,  looking 
with  respect  at  the  chieftain  who  seemed  invulnerable, 
but  complaining  of  the  atrocious  torment  of  the  burns. 
Some  wallowed  on  the  ground  kicking  with  pain,  their 
lips  covered  with  foam. 

Suddenly  it  seemed  as  if  the  city  had  burst,  hurling 
its  inhabitants  forth  in  all  directions.  In  the  distance 
the  Celtiberians  were  seen  to  flee,  flinging  away  their 
ladders.  The  populace  rushed  out  en  masse  against  the 
besiegers.  The  gates  were  too  narrow  to  allow  passage 
to  the  armed  multitude  which  swirled  through  them 
and  then  spread  out  in  all  directions  like  a  torrent  which, 
having  run  boxed  in  between  mountains,  suddenly  inun- 
dates the  plain.  Many  impatient  ones  swung  from  the 
merlons  to  fall  more  quickly  upon  the  enemy. 

In  a  moment  the  whole  space  intervening  between  the 


S6NNICA 


walls  and  the  camp  was  covered  by  attacking  Saguntincs 
and  by  fleeing  besiegers.  Hannibal  felt  himself  dragged 
by  the  flight  of  his  soldiers.  The  mantelets  began  to 
burn,  and  a  crowd  of  women  and  boys,  grasping  torches, 
encircled  the  walking-towers,  setting  fire  to  their  osier 
walls. 

The  Saguntines,  forming  in  phalanxes,  advanced, 
sweeping  before  them  the  besiegers  who  fled  in  disorder. 
Before  its  movable  front  of  pikes  and  of  arms  flourish- 
ing broadswords,  nothing  could  be  seen  but  fugitive  men 
who  flung  away  their  arms  and  leaped  into  the  air 
pierced  by  arrows  and  lances. 

The  giant  Theron  came  out  in  solitary  majesty,  as  if 
he  alone  were  a  phalanx.  The  lion  skin,  and  his  enor- 
mous stature,  attracted  the  gaze  of  all.  His  club  rose 
and  fell,  crashing  into  the  groups  of  fugitives  and  open- 
ing great  swaths  through  their  ranks. 

"  It  is  Hercules  !"  the  besiegers  shouted,  with  super- 
stitious terror.  "  The  god  of  Saguntum  has  come  out 
against  us!" 

The  presence  of  the  giant  accelerated  the  dispersion 
even  more  than  the  blows  of  the  Saguntines. 

Hannibal  tried  to  advance,  to  face  about;  in  vain 
he  lifted  up  his  voice,  brandishing  his  sword.  He  was 
swept  by  the  torrent  of  flight;  his  own  soldiers  crowded 
him  along,  blinded  by  the  contagion  of  terror;  they 
tramped  on  his  heels,  they  pressed  against  his  back  with 
their  heads  bent  low  in  swift  retreat,  and  he  had  to 
make  strenuous  efforts  to  keep  from  being  overwhelmed 
and  trampled  down.  A  moment  more  and  the  Sagun- 
tines, having  destroyed  every  engine  of  war,  reached  the 
camp. 


ASBYTE  AND  HANNIBAL  227 

The  chieftain  was  snarling  curses  and  threats  against 
his  brother  and  Maherbal  who  did  not  come  up  with  the 
reserves  to  stay  the  torrent  of  the  rout.  He  saw  the 
troops  issuing  from  the  camp  hurriedly,  but  on  foot  and 
in  disorder,  with  the  precipitation  produced  by  an  un- 
expected event.  Many  of  them  were  adjusting  the  straps 
of  their  cuirasses,  and  the  different  tribes  were  jostled 
together  and  minus  their  leaders,  who  in  vain  had  trump- 
eters blow  their  horns  to  bring  the  hosts  to  order. 

The  Saguntines  in  the  blind  impulse  of  victory  clashed 
with  this  reinforcement  and  almost  routed  it  in  the  first 
encounter.  Hannibal,  who  had  managed  to  reunite  a 
group  of  the  bravest  soldiers,  presented  a  firm  front  to 
the  Saguntines. 

"  This  way !  This  way !"  he  shouted  to  those  coming 
from  the  camp,  who  in  their  excitement  did  not  know 
where  to  rally. 

But  at  the  same  time  his  cries  attracted  the  enemy. 
Theron,  as  if  guided  by  his  god,  turned  toward  Hanni- 
bal, and  soon  his  mace  began  to  hammer  at  the  shields 
of  the  Carthaginians.  He  hurled  himself  against  them 
with  cool  courage,  breaking  their  lances  with  a  blow  of 
his  club,  wounding  himself  on  the  swords  which  seemed 
to  rebound  from  his  powerful  muscles,  dripping  blood  be- 
neath his  lion  skin,  ferocious  and  magnificent,  like  unto 
a  divinity.  He  never  raised  his  knotty  trunk  without 
dropping  an  enemy  at  his  feet. 

The  besiegers  began  to  recede  again  before  the  pres- 
sure of  the  Saguntines ;  Hannibal  was  once  more  dragged 
by  his  men  who  were  terrified  by  the  savagery  of  the 
giant  who  seemed  invulnerable,  when  an  unexpected 
turn  gave  a  new  phase  to  the  combat.  The  earth  shook 


228  S6NNICA 

beneath  a  wild  gallop,  like  the  reverberation  of  rolling 
thunder,  and  leaning  over  their  horses'  necks,  their  hair 
floating  from  beneath  their  helmets,  and  their  white 
tunics  streaming  around  their  naked  limbs,  Asbyte's 
Amazons  fell  upon  the  enemy  with  the  violence  of  a 
hurricane.  They  came  whooping,  waving  their  lances, 
calling  one  to  another  to  charge  upon  the  denser  groups, 
and  the  assailants  fell  back  astonished  at  these  women 
whom  they  saw  near  at  hand  for  the  first  time,  and  who 
were  now  favored  by  the  effect  of  surprise. 

Looking  between  the  heads  which  surrounded  him, 
Hannibal  saw  Asbyte  pass  like  a  luminous  flash,  absolute- 
ly alone.  The  light  of  the  sun,  striking  upon  her  helmet, 
encircled  her  with  a  nimbus  of  gold.  Her  lover's  instinct 
had  revealed  to  her  where  Hannibal  stood  surrounded 
by  enemies,  and  she  dashed  to  his  support. 

Succeeding  events  were  rapid,  instantaneous.  Through 
the  dust  of  the  charge  Hannibal  barely  made  out  what 
occurred,  as  if  it  were  the  fleeting  agony  of  a  dream. 

The  Amazon,  with  couched  lance,  rode  at  a  gallop 
against  the  priest  of  Hercules,  who  in  the  recoil  of  that 
disordered  hand  to  hand  struggle  had  been  left  alone  in 
a  broad  open  space. 

"  Ohooo ! "  shouted  the  Amazon,  exciting  her  horse 

by  her  war  cry. 

Pressing  her  legs  against  the  animal's  ribs  she  lifted 
herself  upon  his  back  in  order  to  give  the  giant  a  deeper 
wound. 

The  horse,  terrified  at  the  frightful  lion's  head  on  the 
forehead  of  the  colossus,  reared  and  whinnied,  while  at 
the  same  moment  the  enormous  mace  struck  above  his 
eyes  with  a  crash  like  the  breaking  of  a  heavy  amphora.. 


ASBYTE  AND  HANNIBAL  229 

The  horse  reeled  backwards  with  a  shattered  skull, 
blood  spurting  from  his  eyes.  The  Amazon,  thrown 
from  his  back,  fell  on  her  knees  a  few  steps  away,  cover- 
ing herself  with  her  shield.  If  she  could  hold  out  a 
moment  she  would  be  saved.  Hannibal,  forgotten  by 
his  disorganized  men  who  were  milling  like  a  frightened 
herd  in  the  confusion  of  battle,  ran  to  her  aid.  Bodies 
of  cavalry  rushed  from  the  camp  to  assist  the  audacious 
Amazons,  and  the  mass  of  the  besieged  retreated  in  dis- 
order toward  the  city. 

Asbyte  arose  and  advanced  a  step,  raising  her  lance 
to  thrust  the  giant;  but  at  the  same  moment  the  enor- 
mous cudgel,  brandished  with  both  hands,  crushed  upon 
her  like  a  toppling  wall.  Her  crumpling  bronze  shield 
rung  plaintively,  her  golden  helmet  parted  on  the  seams, 
and  Asbyte  doubled  up  on  the  ground,  her  tunic  stained 
with  blood,  like  a  wounded  white  bird  folded  in  its 
fluttering  wings. 

Theron,  despite  his  ferocity,  stood  appalled,  resting 
on  his  club,  oblivious  to  what  was  taking  place  about 
him,  as  if  repentant  for  the  frightful  destruction  which 
his  power  had  wrought  upon  that  beautiful  woman. 

"  Answer  me  for  that,  Theron !  Defend  yourself, 
butcher  of  Hercules !  Kill  me  if  you  can ;  I  am  Hanni- 
bal!" 

The  priest  turned  and  beheld  a  warrior,  his  face 
covered  by  his  shield,  his  sword  held  in  tierce,  advancing 
with  amazing  agility,  circling  around  him  like  a  tiger 
attacking  an  elephant  and  seeking  by  his  greater  mo- 
bility to  spring  upon  him  at  a  defenceless  point.  The 
battle  had  ceased;  the  Saguntines  fell  back  toward  the 
city.  The  besieging  cavalry  charged  close  up  to  the 


230  S6NNICA 

walls,  leaving  the  two  combatants  alone  on  the  field. 
A  few  soldiers  sluggishly  approached,  and  stood  still 
some  distance  away,  intimidated  by  the  superstitious 
terror  which  the  giant  inspired. 

Theron  did  not  falter  on  finding  himself  alone.  Han- 
nibal !  It  was  Hannibal  the  great  warrior,  who  was  now 
to  fight  with  him  absolutely  alone!  This  singular  duel, 
in  view  of  the  whole  city  looking  on  from  the  walls, 
seemed  arranged  by  his  god!  He  was  to  rid  Saguntum 
of  her  direst  enemy !  Hercules  had  reserved  this  glory 
for  him;  and  smiling  with  satisfaction  he  raised  the  mace, 
striding  straight  toward  the  African. 

Hannibal  eluded  him,  stepping  backward,  springing 
aside  with  feline  agility,  evading  the  encounter,  until  at 
last  the  priest  was  weary  and  wished  to  end  the  struggle 
before  new  combatants  should  arrive.  He  steadied  him- 
self on  his  colossal  legs  and  hurled  the  club  at  Hannibal. 
The  enormous  tree  trunk  tore  through  the  air,  while 
Hannibal,  seeing  it  coming,  sprang  aside.  It  grazed 
his  shield  with  a  thundering  clang,  and  fell  far  away 
amid  a  cloud  of  dust. 

The  African  bent  his  knees  at  the  shock,  but  recovered 
himself,  and  flinging  away  his  broken  shield  rushed  at 
Theron  with  lifted  sword. 

The  priest  of  Hercules,  finding  himself  disarmed, 
experienced  a  momentary  qualm;  he  knew  fear, 
believing  himself  in  the  presence  of  a  superior 
being  against  whom  his  strength  could  not  avail,  and 
turning  his  back  on  Hannibal  he  fled  toward  Saguntum. 
The  people  on  the  walls  seeing  his  peril  called  to  him. 
Some  drew  their  bows  to  stop  Hannibal  with  their  arrows, 
but  they  dared  not  shoot  for  fear  of  wounding  Theron, 


ASBYTE  AND  HANNIBAL  231 

The  Saguntines  breathed  hard  at  seeing  their  Hercules 
flee,  pursued  by  the  warrior  who  was  heading  him  off  so 
that  he  should  not  reach  the  city. 

The  giant  being  heavy  and  muscular,  ran  with  difficulty 
over  the  ground  strewn  as  it  was  with  dead  and  with  the 
litter  of  the  fight.  He  stumbled  over  a  shield ;  his  knees 
bent;  he  arose  again;  but  this  time  completely  nude. 
The  lion  skin  had  fallen  from  his  shoulders,  and  lay 
among  the  wrack  of  battle. 

His  pursuer  caught  up  to  him.  The  giant  felt  the 
cold  steel  sink  into  the  muscles  of  his  back,  and  not 
caring  to  die  like  a  fleeing  slave  in  sight  of  his  entire 
city  he  turned  quickly,  extending  his  columnar  arms  to 
crush  his  enemy  between  them;  but  before  the  two  mus- 
cular masses  could  encircle  and  mangle  him,  Hannibal 
had  buried  his  sword  again  and  again  in  the  side  of  the 
colossus,  and  Theron  fell,  pressing  his  hands  against 
his  wounds  and  gazing  at  his  dark  red  blood. 

He  looked  at  Hannibal  without  anger,  with  a  child- 
like expression  of  pain,  and  then  he  fixed  his  death- 
clouded  eyes  on  the  lofty  Acropolis,  where  the  roofs 
glistened  in  the  sun. 

"  Father  Hercules !"  he  murmured  bitterly.  "  Why 
do  you  abandon  your  people?" 

His  enormous  head  raised  a  cloud  of  dust  as  it  struck 
the  ground.  Hannibal  bent  over  it  and  with  his  sword 
began  to  hew  the  robust  neck,  obliged  to  strike  many 
blows  to  sever  the  network  of  corded  tendons  and  stub- 
born muscles,  which  seemed  to  blunt  the  edge  of  the 
blade. 

A  cloud  of  arrows  began  to  piow  the  ground  round- 
about Hannibal. 


232  S6NNICA 

The  chieftain  removed  his  helmet,  loosing  his  mass 
of  curling  hair;  he  grasped  the  head  of  Theron  by  its 
gory  mane,  and  placing  one  foot  in  the  attitude  of  con- 
queror upon  the  body  of  the  priest,  he  showed  it  to  the 
people  on  the  walls. 

He  was  magnificent  with  his  sword  in  his  right  hand 
and  holding  out  his  other  arm  which  sustained  the  head, 
of  the  giant.  The  dark  integument  of  his  eyes,  brilliant 
as  the  metal  disks  which  hung  from  his  ears,  gleamed 
with  pride  and  icy  hate. 

The  Saguntines  recognized  the  victor,  and  wails  of 
surprise  and  peals  of  fury  thundered  along  the  wall. 

"  Hannibal !     It  is  Hannibal !" 

He  still  stood  motionless,  like  a  statue  of  victory, 
proudly  defying  the  enemy,  heedless  of  the  storm  of  pro- 
jectiles whizzing  around  him,  until  suddenly  he  dropped 
the  head  of  Theron  and  sank  to  his  knees,  letting  fall 
his  sword. 

Mopsus  the  bowman  had  shot  an  arrow  through  his 
leg. 

From  the  walls  all  beheld  how,  in  an  outburst  of 
angry  pain  he  tore  out  the  arrow-shaft,  broke  it  into 
splinters,  and  flung  them  away.  Then  they  saw  no  more. 
A  host  of  the  besieging  army  rushed  forward  and  covered 
him,  and  his  archers  and  slingers  began  to  shoot  against 
the  battlements. 

Actaeon,  fatigued  by  the  recent  sally,  and  hidden  be- 
hind a  merlon,  watched  what  was  taking  place  around 
Hannibal,  paying  no  attention  to  'tlie  missiles  from  the 
slingers,  who,  infuriated  by  the  wounding  of  their  chief, 
hurled  a  hail  of  stones  against  the  walls. 


ASBYTE  AND  HANNIBAL  233 

He  saw  Hannibal  move  away  supported  by  two  Car- 
thaginian captains  in  golden  cuirasses,  accompanied  by 
a  multitude. 

Suddenly  the  chieftain  repelled  his  helpers,  and  limped 
painfully  toward  a  white,  bloodstained  object  lying  on 
the  red  earth  like  a  shapeless  rag.  He  bent  over  the 
form,  and  the  Numidians  who  surrounded  it  beheld  the 
terrible  Hannibal  weep — for  the  first  and  last  time — 
pressing  his  lips  upon  the  mangled  head  of  the  Amazon 
Asbyte. 


CHAPTER  VII 

THE     WALLS    OF     SAGUNTUM 

THE  wounding  of  Hannibal  gave  the  city  some  days  of 
respite.  The  besiegers  remained  non-combatant  in  their 
camp,  watching  Saguntum  from  afar.  The  slingers 
came  out  in  the  mornings  to  exercise  their  arms  by  shoot- 
ing against  the  wall,  but  aside  from  this,  and  from  the 
arrow-shots  with  which  they  replied  from  the  city,  there 
was  no  further  exchange  of  hostilities  between  the  be- 
siegers and  the  besieged. 

Bands  of  cavalry  overran  the  domain  foraging,  and 
the  immense  multitude  of  ferocious  tribes  finished  the 
work  of  destruction,  sacking  the  villas  and  country- 
houses.  The  groves  were  cleared  away;  each  day  they 
chopped  down  new  trees  in  order  to  supply  the  camp 
with  wood,  and  in  these  denuded  spaces  the  tiled  roofs 
and  towers  could  no  longer  be  seen.  Only  smoking  and 
blackened  ruins  appeared  here  and  there  through  the 
deserted  fields.  A  mosaic  on  a  level  with  the  ground  was 
often  the  only  vestige  of  an  elegant  villa  razed  to  its 
foundations  by  the  invaders. 

The  beleaguered  people  saw  Hannibal's  army  rapidly 
swelling.  Each  day  new  tribes  arrived.  It  seemed  as 
if  all  Iberia,  subjugated  by  the  prestige  of  Hannibal, 
were  coming  to  camp  around  Saguntum,  fired  by  the  fame 
of  its  riches.  They  came  on  foot  or  on  horseback,  dirty, 


235 


savage,  covered  with  skins  or  dressed  in  esparto,  carry- 
ing crescent-shaped  shields  and  short  two-edged  swords, 
eager  to  fight,  and  bringing  with  them  showy  presents  for 
the  African,  whose  glory  dazzled  them. 

Such  of  the  Saguntines  as  had  trafficked  with  the 
tribes  of  the  interior  recognized  the  new  arrivals  from  the 
walls.  They  came  from  very  far;  some  there  were  who 
had  marched  more  than  a  month  to  reach  Saguntum, 
and  they  pointed  out  the  Lusitanians,  athletic  of  figure, 
of  whom  horrible  tales  of  ferocity  were  told ;  the  Gali- 
cians,  who  lived  on  fish  and  by  washing  and  melting 
the  gold  of  their  rivers;  the  Asturians,  who  worked 
in  iron;  and  the  gloomy  Basques  whose  language  other 
nations  could  not  understand.  Mixed  with  them  came 
fresh  tribes  from  Baetica,  who  had  been  slow  in  answer- 
ing the  Carthaginian's  call ;  agile  infantry,  of  olive  skin, 
their  hair  hanging  down  their  backs,  dressed  in  short 
white  skirts  with  broad  purple  borders,  and  carrying 
large  round  shields  which  served  them  as  floats  in  cross- 
ing streams.  The  camp  stretched  along  the  river  and 
spread  over  the  extensive  valley,  scattering  finally  in 
groups  of  tents  and  huts  as  far  as  the  eye  could  see.  It 
was  a  veritable  city,  larger  than  Saguntum,  which  ad- 
vanced and  advanced  as  if  it  would  swallow  her  walls. 

The  day  following  their  courageous  sally  the  Sagun- 
tines noticed  great  activity  in  the  besieging  camp — the 
funeral  honors  to  the  queen  of  the  Amazons.  They  saw 
Asbyte's  body  borne  in  parade  on  a  shield  by  the  women- 
warriors;  then,  in  the  centre  of  the  camp  rose  a  column 
of  smoke  from  the  enormous  pyre  which  consumed  her 
remains. 

The  beleaguered  people  guessed  the  mood  of  the  enemy. 


SoNNICA 


Hannibal  was  lying  on  his  couch,  and  the  army  seemed 
depressed  by  the  hero's  suffering.  The  wizards  came 
and  went  through  the  tent,  examining  the  wound,  and 
then  they  searched  the  surrounding  mountains  for  mys- 
terious herbs  to  compound  miraculous  poultices. 

In  Saguntum  some  of  the  most  daring  urged  another 
sally  to  take  advantage  of  that  moment  of  depression 
for  falling  upon  the  enemy  and  putting  them  to  flight. 
But  the  besieging  camp  was  well  guarded;  Hannibal's 
brother  with  the  principal  captains  were  on  the  watch 
to  avoid  a  surprise;  the  army  lay  behind  earthen  breast- 
works thrown  up  around  the  camp  as  in  a  strong  city, 
and  they  took  advantage  of  this  opportunity  to  accom- 
plish new  work  for  protecting  it  from  the  danger  of  at- 
tack. On  the  other  hand  the  city  was  no  less  disheartened 
by  the  loss  of  the  priest  of  Hercules.  The  people 
could  not  explain  to  themselves  how  the  African  chief- 
tain had  put  the  gigantic  Theron  to  death  before  the 
eyes  of  all  Saguntum,  and  the  more  superstitious  saw  in 
this  a  celestial  sign,  the  omen  that  the  tutelary  gods  of 
the  city  were  about  to  abandon  it. 

The  same  determination  as  at  the  beginning  was  still 
displayed;  all  were  resolved  to  defend  themselves;  but 
the  mocking  joviality  of  the  early  days  of  the  siege  had 
disappeared.  They  believed  that  they  scented  adversity 
round  about  them,  and  the  ever  swelling  numbers  of  the 
enemy  dispirited  them.  Each  morning  they  beheld  the 
besieging  camp  increased.  When  would  Hannibal's  allies 
cease  to  come? 

The  merry  Grecian  city  of  rich  merchants  and  of 
pompous  Panathenaic  festivals  presented  the  solemn 
aspect  of  every  beleaguered  town.  The  people  from  the 


fields  who  had  sought  refuge  in  the  city  camped  in  the 
streets  and  squares,  distilling  the  odor  of  a  sick  and 
suffering  flock.  In  the  temples  the  wounded  dragged 
themselves  to  the  bases  of  the  columns,  groaning;  above, 
on  the  Acropolis,  a  funeral  pyre  smoked  day  and  night 
consuming  the  bodies  of  those  who  had  died  on  the  walls, 
or  had  fallen  in  the  streets  victims  of  strange  diseases 
engendered  by  the  congestion  of  the  population. 

There  were  still  enough  provisions,  but  there  was  lack 
of  fruits  and  vegetables ;  and  the  rich,  divining  the  future, 
gathered  in  all  they  could,  seeing  days  of  want  ahead. 

In  the  poor  wards  they  killed  the  horses  and  beasts 
of  burden,  roasting  the  meat  over  flames  kindled  in  the 
streets  for  the  roofless  refugees. 

On  the  walls,  as  well  as  on  the  Acropolis,  all  gazed 
impatiently  out  to  sea.  When  would  the  auxiliaries 
come  from  Rome?  What  were  the  legates  from  Sagun- 
tum  to  the  great  Republic  doing? 

Frequently  impatience  caused  the  whole  city  to  be 
cruelly  deceived.  Some  mornings  the  lookouts  posted 
in  the  tower  of  Hercules  on  the  Acropolis  raised  a  furi- 
ous clangor  of  cymbals  on  spying  sails  upon  the  horizon. 
The  people  rushed  to  the  crest  of  the  hill,  following 
with  anxious  eyes  the  course  of  the  white  or  red  sails 
over  the  blue  surface  of  the  Sucronian  gulf.  It  was 
they !  The  Romans !  The  advance  ships  of  the  succoring 
fleet  bound  for  the  port !  But  after  hours  of  anguishing 
expectancy,  their  hopes  were  crushed  on  seeing  that  they 
were  passing  merchant  ships  from  Massilia  or  Emporion, 
or  hostile  triremes  which  Hasdrubal,  the  brother  of 
Hannibal,  was  sending  from  New  Carthage  with  pro- 
visions for  the  army. 


238  S6NNICA 

Each  disappointment  increased  the  melancholy  of  the 
Saguntines.  The  enemy's  ranks  were  ever  swelling,  and 
the  allies  failed  to  come!  The  city  would  be  lost!  The 
enthusiasm  of  the  defenders  was  revived  only  when  they 
found  old  Mopsus  on  the  walls,  who  because  of  his  sure 
aim  at  Hannibal  was  the  hero  of  the  city,  and  the  valor- 
ous Actaeon,  who  with  the  light  spirits  of  an  Athenian, 
Jesting  and  merry  in  the  presence  of  danger,  knew  how 
to  inspire  fresh  courage. 

Sonnica  also  appeared  among  them  at  the  points  of 
combat.  She  ran  along  the  walls  amidst  the  hissing 
arrows,  and  the  poor  citizens  marveled  at  the  bravery 
of  the  opulent  Greek  woman  who  scorned  the  missiles 
of  the  enemy. 

Love  for  Actaeon  and  hatred  of  the  besiegers  made 
her  bold.  She  was  enraged  at  the  Carthaginians.  From 
the  height  of  the  Acropolis  one  afternoon  she  had  seen 
the  flames  pouring  from  the  roof  of  her  villa.  She  saw 
the  red  tower  of  the  dovecote  topple,  the  beautiful  groves 
which  surrounded  her  house  cut  down,  leaving  nothing 
but  a  mound  of  rubbish  and  charred  trunks;  and  she 
longed  to  be  avenged,  not  for  her  lost  riches,  but  for  the 
destruction  of  the  secluded  retreat  sacred  to  her  love, 
and  of  the  sumptuous  dwelling  crowded  with  memories. 
Moreover,  she  was  nervous  from  the  insufferable  depriva- 
tion of  this  new  life  within  the  beleaguered  city,  where 
she  was  obliged  to  eat  coarse  food  and  to  sleep  in  a 
room  in  her  warehouse  among  the  valuables  piled  to- 
gether in  the  disorder  of  flight,  almost  mingling  with 
her  slaves,  and  deprived  of  her  bath.  There  was  no 
water  in  the  city,  except  that  in  the  cisterns  which  the 


THE  WALLS  OF  SAGUNTUM          239 

magistrates  distributed  with  great  parsimony,  foreseeing 
an  approaching  scarcity. 

This  wretched  life  excited  her,  making  her  distin- 
guished for  warlike  audacity.  Occasionally  she  saw 
her  lover,  the  soul  of  the  defense ;  sometimes  on  the  walls 
directing  the  slaves  who  were  repairing  them,  at  others 
on  the  Acropolis  with  Mopsus  to  examine  the  situation 
of  the  enemy.  He  wished  to  take  advantage  of  the  lull 
caused  by  Hannibal's  wound  to  put  the  city  into  a  better 
state  of  defense,  and  meanwhile  Sonnica  strolled  along 
the  wall  talking  with  the  young  men,  promising  hand- 
some rewards  to  those  who  most  distinguished  themselves, 
and  exciting  them  to  make  an  extraordinary  sally  in 
which  the  city  should  hurl  itself  en  masse  beyond  the 
walls,  crushing  the  enemy  and  sweeping  them  onward 
into  the  sea. 

She  went  everywhere  escorted  by  Erotion  and  Rhanto. 
Life  in  the  narrow  limits,  and  a  community  of  danger, 
had  drawn  her  to  the  two  children,  and  they  followed  in 
her  wake  listening  to  her  words  with  enthusiastic  smiles, 
and  applauding  the  rich  woman's  warlike  suggestions. 

Rhanto  was  no  longer  a  shepherdess.  One  after 
another  her  goats  had  been  devoured  in  Sonnica's  house, 
and  with  no  other  occupation  than  following  her  mistress, 
clinging  always  to  Erotion's  hand,  she  regarded  the  sit- 
uation as  one  of  joy,  and  had  no  desire  that  it  should 
ever  cease.  Even  the  frowning  Mopsus,  the  father  of 
her  beloved,  unprotesting  found  them  together,  and 
often  smiled  at  seeing  them  tranquil  and  happy,  walk- 
ing along  the  walls  without  fear  of  the  besiegers. 

Danger  had  developed  kindness  in  the  people.  Rich 
merchauts  elbowed  slaves  as  they  shot  their  arrows  from 


240  S6NNICA 

the  cover  of  the  merlons;  more  than  one  opulent  Gre- 
cian woman  was  seen  to  tear  her  linen  tunic  to  bind  the 
wounds  of  rude  mercenaries,  and  Sonnica  the  rich,  she 
who  used  to  scorn  the  women  of  the  city,  now  talked  of 
forming  a  troop  like  that  of  the  Amazons  who  followed 
Hannibal.  Rhanto,  content  with  this  new  situation,  so 
blinded  by  joy  that  she  could  not  see  the  anguish  and 
misery  which  the  town  endured,  pulled  her  lover 
away  in  moments  of  combat,  snatched  the  bow  from  his 
hands,  and  dragging  him  from  the  battlements,  they  hid 
beneath  the  hollow  of  a  stairway  at  the  foot  of  the  ram- 
part, and  made  love  with  fresh  ardor,  their  pleasure 
seeming  the  more  intense  because  threatened  by  the 
singing  arrows  and  the  cries  and  exclamations  of  pain  and 
fury  overhead. 

The  respite  lasted  only  twenty  days.  Breaking  the 
silence  of  the  camp  the  carpenters'  hammers  rung  cease- 
lessly and  the  besieged  saw  gradually  rising  a  great 
wooden  tower  several  stories  high,  taller  than  the  walls 
of  the  city. 

Hannibal  regained  his  strength,  and  was  eager  to 
continue  the  siege.  In  his  desire  that  the  enemy  should 
see  him  without  delay,  he  left  his  tent,  in  spite  of  his 
still  open  wound,  he  mounted  his  horse,  and  rode  out 
of  the  camp  to  gallop  along  the  walls,  followed  by  his 
captains. 

The  Saguntines  were  dazed  at  the  sight  of  him.  He 
shone  like  a  coal  of  fire  upon  his  black  horse;  the  sun 
wrapped  him  in  a  splendor  which  blinded,  as  if  he  were  a 
divinity.  He  wore  the  cuirass  and  helmet  made  of  gold 
from  the  rivers  which  the  Galician  tribes  had  brought 
him  as  a  present,  The  chieftain  preferred  the  bronze 


THE  WALLS  OF  SAGUNTUM 


armor  which  he  had  ever  worn  in  his  battles,  but  his 
parade  around  Saguntum  was  like  a  resurrection,  and 
he  wished  the  besieged  to  behold  him  dazzling  and  ma- 
jestic as  a  god. 

With  the  reappearance  of  Hannibal  the  siege  began 
fiercer  than  before.  The  Saguntines  understood  from  the 
first  moment  that  the  besiegers  had  taken  advantage  of 
the  cessation  of  hostilities  to  augment  their  offensive 
power.  With  great  effort  they  dragged  up  the  enormous 
wooden  tower  which  they  had  constructed.  Archers  were 
stationed  in  the  different  stories  to  shoot  through  the 
loopholes  in  the  sides.  The  upper  platform  dominated 
the  wall  in  such  wise  that  its  catapult  hurled  great  stones 
over  the  merlons,  sowing  death  among  the  defenders. 

Hannibal  seemed  everywhere  at  once,  irritated  by  the 
tenacity  of  the  Saguntines,  and  eager  to  terminate  the 
siege  without  delay. 

It  was  impossible  to  remain  uncovered  on  the  walls. 
The  tower  had  been  placed  near  the  projecting  part  of 
the  city  which  Hannibal  considered  the  weakest.  Darts 
and  stones  fell  ceaselessly  and  while  the  defenders  sought 
refuge  behind  the  merlons,  unable  to  step  out  into  the 
crenels,  the  battering-rams  pounded  at  the  base  under  the 
protection  of  the  tower,  hammering  against  the  walls, 
and  gradually  weakening  them;  and  the  Africans  who 
had  outlived  the  first  assault  now  attacked  the  blocks 
of  stone  with  more  security,  little  by  little  opening  a 
breach. 

The  Saguntines,  pale  with  the  rage  of  impotence,  en- 
deavored in  vain  to  stay  the  destruction.  The  besieging 
tower,  rolling  over  a  level  tract  impelled  by  men  hidden 
behind  it,  moved  from  place  to  place,  scattering  death, 


242  SONNICA 

and  at  times  it  drew  so  near  that  the  besieged  could  hear 
the  voices  of  the  bowmen  who  shot  through  the  loop- 
holes. Meanwhile,  down  below,  at  the  base  of  the  walls, 
the  slow  and  obstinate  work  of  undermining  continued. 

The  more  excitable  citizens,  raging  with  indignation 
at  seeing  their  walls  destroyed  with  impunity,  leaned  out 
into  the  crenels  to  shoot  at  those  who  operated  the  batter- 
ing-ram and  worked  with  pickaxes;  but  no  sooner  did 
they  appear  than  a  stone  fell  upon  them,  or  they  tumbled 
over  with  their  bodies  pierced  by  an  arrow.  The  wall 
was  strewn  with  the  dead  and  dying.  The  wounded 
dragged  themselves  along  contemplating  with  clouded 
gaze  the  shaft  of  the  arrow  sunk  in  their  flesh. 

In  vain  the  besieged  shot  against  the  tower.  Stones 
rebounded  from  its  walls  of  logs  with  hollow  clatter 
but  without  piercing  them.  It  was  bristling  with  arrows, 
moving  like  a  monstrous  elephant,  insensible  to  wounds, 
and  in  vain  the  phalarics  whistled  through  the  air  with 
their  trail  of  sparks  and  smoke,  for  they  could  not  set 
fire  to  the  wet  hides  with  which  the  upper  part  of  the 
tower  was  covered. 

The  more  prudent  fled  from  those  places  where  the 
besiegers  concentrated  their  efforts,  and  the  more  auda- 
cious took  their  places  ignorant  how  to  repel  the  enemy, 
but  with  the  stubborn  determination  of  dying  before  he 
should  advance  a  step. 

Mopsus,  the  bowman,  was  the  only  one  in  the  difficult 
situation  who  inflicted  damage  upon  the  Carthaginians. 
With  drawn  bow  he  thrust  his  head  outside  the  merlons 
for  an  instant  and  shot,  managing  to  send  his  arrows  into 
the  loopholes  of  the  tower,  scattering  death  among  the 
soldiers  who  thought  themselves  secure.  Erotion  was  at 


THE  WALLS  OF  SAGUNTUM          243 

his  side.  Seeing  his  father  in  a  place  of  danger  he  repelled 
Rhanto  at  the  foot  of  the  steps  leading  to  the  wall,  pay- 
ing no  heed  to  her  tears,  and  grasping  his  bow  he  tried 
to  imitate  the  old  archer,  challenging  the  men  in  the 
tower. 

But  with  the  imprudence  of  youth  he  exposed  almost 
his  entire  body  beyond  the  merlon,  and  when  he  managed 
to  plunge  an  arrow  into  the  tower  he  laughed,  standing 
in  the  open  crenel  insulting  the  besiegers  with  his  bois- 
terous peals  of  boyish  laughter. 

A  stone  from  a  catapult  in  the  tower  came  whizzing 
and  struck  his  head  with  a  mournful  crash.  Blood  and 
torn  flesh  spattered  over  those  nearest  him,  and  the  boy, 
doubling  up  as  if  made  of  rags,  rolled  through  the  crenel 
and  fell  outside  the  wall.  The  arrows  from  his  quiver 
struck  roundabout  his  body  with  a  metallic  ring. 

"  Mopsus !  Mopsus !"  shouted  Actaeon,  striving  to  re- 
strain the  bowman. 

The  old  man  had  rushed  out  upon  the  wall,  wholly 
unprotected,  his  eyes  glassy,  his  gray  beard  quivering, 
impotent  from  grief  and  rage. 

Three  times  he  tried  to  draw  his  bow  to  shoot  at  the 
platform  in  the  tower  which  held  the  catapult,  but  in 
spite  of  his  efforts  he  could  not  bend  his  weapon.  Grief, 
surprise,  despair,  at  being  unable  to  exterminate  his 
enemies  with  a  single  blow  deprived  him  of  his  strength. 

While  he  stood  struggling  with  the  rigid  bow  which 
seemed  to  rebel  against  him,  the  enemy's  projectiles  were 
hissing  around  his  head.  Finding  himself  powerless, 
aged  in  an  instant  by  grief,  gazing  down  upon  the  man- 
gled body  of  his  son,  and  unable  to  avenge  him,  he  uttered 
a  moan,  and  summoning  all  the  strength  of  his  will  he 


S6NNICA 


sprang  outside  the  wall,  and  fell  upon  the  corpse  of 
Erotion.  His  head  struck  against  the  stones  with  a 
resounding  thud,  a  stream  of  blood  ran  from  it,  and  father 
and  son  formed  a  motionless  pile  a  short  distance  from 
the  assailants,  who  continued  pounding  with  the  batter- 
ing-rams, and  digging  at  the  base  of  the  wall. 

The  unequal  struggle  lasted  almost  throughout  the 
day.  The  Saguntines  defending  this  part  of  the  wall 
could  not  repulse  the  advance  of  the  enemy.  They  felt 
the  dull  thud  of  the  pickaxes,  the  wall  seemed  to  reel 
beneath  their  feet,  and  they  could  do  nothing  to  prevent 
the  progress  of  the  besiegers. 

Slowly  the  defenders  began  to  retire.  Actaeon,  sad- 
dened by  the  tragic  death  of  his  compatriot,  and  con- 
vinced that  it  was  useless  to  remain  at  that  point,  ad- 
vised them  to  retreat  into  the  interior  of  the  city.  He 
fell  back  with  some  of  his  men,  and  soon  a  tower,  eaten 
away  at  its  base  by  the  battering-ram,  tottered  and  fell 
to  the  ground  with  a  great  roar  of  rubbish,  and  filled  the 
air  with  dust.  After  this  two  other  towers  were  battered 
down,  and  a  long  stretch  of  wall  collapsed,  burying  in 
the  debris  the  most  obstinate  defenders  who  had  remained 
at  their  posts  until  the  last  moment. 

An  awe-inspiring  acclamation,  a  howl  of  savage  joy 
from  without  greeted  the  overthrow  of  the  walls.  From 
the  city  streets  the  desolated  fields  and  one  end  of  the 
camp  could  be  seen  through  the  open  breach.  Arms 
glittered  in  the  dense  atmosphere,  reddened  by  the  dust 
of  the  shattered  walls;  dark  bodies  of  troops  could  be 
seen  advancing,  and  trumpet  blasts  resounded. 

"  The  assault  !    The  Carthaginians  are  coming  !" 


THE  WALLS  OF  SAGUNTUM          245 

From  all  sides  of  the  city  armed  men  gathered.  The 
narrow  streets  near  the  wall  vomited  groups  and  more 
groups  who  came  shouting  and  brandishing  swords  and 
axes,  with  the  determined  mien  of  those  who  had  de- 
cided to  die.  Clambering  over  the  rubbish  they  began 
to  take  position  in  the  breach,  and  this  open  space,  this 
broad  gash  in  the  city's  girdle  of  stone,  was  protected  by 
a  motley  crowd  which  flourished  weapons  and  formed 
a  solid  unbreakable  mass. 

Actaeon  was  in  the  first  rank;  near  him  he  saw  the 
prudent  Alcon,  who  had  exchanged  his  staff  for  a  sword, 
and  many  of  the  peace-loving  merchants  whose  astute 
faces  seemed  ennobled  by  the  heroic  resolution  to  die 
rather  than  give  passage  to  the  enemy. 

When  the  besiegers  advanced  to  the  assault  they  had 
to  clash  with  the  entire  city.  The  walking-tower,  the 
battering-rams,  and  the  catapults,  availed  them  nothing; 
the  struggle  was  hand  to  hand,  and  the  besieged  no  longer 
used  the  phalaric,  but  the  sword  and  the  axe. 

Hannibal,  on  foot,  guided  the  phalanxes,  which 
marched  with  lowered  lance  or  lifted  sword.  He  was 
fighting  like  a  soldier,  anxious  to  end  this  siege  which 
was  delaying  his  plans,  believing  this  to  be  the  decisive 
moment,  and  that  a  supreme  effort  might  make  him  mas- 
ter of  the  city.  With  sharp  words  he  encouraged  the 
soldiers  in  the  different  idioms  of  their  tribes,  reminding 
them  of  the  great  riches  within  the  city,  of  the  beauty 
of  the  Greek  women,  of  the  large  numbers  of  slaves  in- 
side those  walls,  and  the  Balearians  attacked  with  lower- 
ed head,  holding  before  them  their  wooden  spears  with 
points  hardened  by  fire;  the  Celtiberians  roared  their  war 
songs,  beating  on  their  breasts  as  on  sonorous  drums, 


246  S6NNICA 

drawing  their  sharp  two-edged  swords,  and  the  Numid- 
ians  and  Mauritanians,  dismounting  from  their  horses, 
moved  from  place  to  place,  cautious  and  sly,  hurling 
upon  the  besieged  the  missiles  which  they  carried  in 
their  girdles  hidden  beneath  their  white  vestments. 

All  in  vain.  The  breach  was  a  narrow  throat.  The 
Carthaginian  army,  in  spite  of  superior  numbers,  had 
to  contract  its  front  to  fight  in  such  a  constricted  space, 
and  in  this  equalizing  of  forces,  the  Saguntines  re- 
tained an  advantage,  repelling  the  besiegers  as  often  as 
they  tried  to  climb  over  the  mound  formed  by  the  fallen 
wall.  Swords  sunk  into  flesh  producing  atrocious  wounds 
characteristic  of  ancient  warfare;  breasts  were  torn 
open  by  the  brutal  force  of  lances;  combatants  clinched 
entwining  their  arms  like  tendrils,  linking  their  legs, 
making  their  panting  chests  wheeze  like  bellows,  and 
rolling  on  the  ground  biting  each  other  in  the  face.  Often 
when  the  victor  arose  he  proudly  displayed  a  piece  of 
bleeding  flesh  between  his  teeth. 

Hannibal's  troops  rushed  up  the  mound  like  a  hurri- 
cane, and  on  its  approach  the  mass  of  defenders  swayed, 
but  none  fell  back;  they  must  die  firm  at  their  post, 
for  behind  them  was  a  compact  multitude  which  forced 
them  to  be  valiant,  leaving  no  space  for  retreat. 

Thus  the  battle  raged  for  hours.  The  mounds  of 
dead  between  besieged  and  besieger  made  the  advance 
difficult.  The  sun  had  sunk  low  in  the  west,  and  Hanni- 
bal was  exasperated  by  the  stubborn  resistance  which 
mocked  his  efforts.  Still  trusting  in  his  lucky  star  he 
ordered  the  trumpets  sounded  for  the  final  assault;  but 
at  that  instant  an  unheard  of  thing  occurred  which  dis- 
concerted the  chieftain  and  sowed  confusion  among  his 
troops. 


THE  WALLS  OF  SAGUNTUM          24-7 

Actaeon  did  not  know  for  a  certainty  whence  came 
the  voice.  Perhaps  it  was  an  hallucination  produced 
by  faith;  perhaps  the  invention  of  some  enthusiast 
tired  of  being  on  the  defensive. 

"  The  Romans !"  shouted  a  voice.  "  Our  allies  are 
coming !" 

The  news  spread  with  the  credulity  born  of  danger. 
From  one  to  another  the  story  ran  that  the  lookouts  in 
the  tower  of  Hercules  had  sighted  a  fleet  bound  for  the 
port,  and  none  asked  who  had  brought  the  inspiring  news 
to  the  breach  in  the  walls.  Everyone  accepted  it,  adding 
by  their  own  invention  fresh  details,  and  eyes  shone 
with  joy,  blanched  faces  flushed,  and  even  the  wounded, 
dragging  themselves  over  the  rubbish  heap,  waved  their 
arms  exclaiming: 

*'  The  Romans !  The  Romans  are  coming !" 

Suddenly,  without  command,  by  common  instinct,  as 
if  impelled  by  an  invisible  force,  they  flung  themselves 
through  the  breach,  down  the  incline,  falling  like  an 
avalanche  upon  the  besiegers  who  were  massed  for  the 
final  assault. 

The  unexpectedness  of  the  shock,  the  force  of  the 
surprise,  the  cry  of  "The  Romans !  The  Romans !"  which 
the  Saguntines  raised  with  such  conviction,  wrought 
disruption  among  Hannibal's  barbarian  tribes.  They 
defended  themselves,  but  the  whole  city  fell  upon  them; 
even  the  women  and  children  fought  as  on  that  morning 
when  Theron  died,  and  Hannibal's  soldiers,  broken  into 
scattered  groups,  neither  seeing  nor  hearing  their  chiefs, 
fled  precipitately  toward  their  camp. 

Hannibal  ran  bellowing  with  rage,  maddened  at  see- 
ing that  the  besieged  repelled  his  troops  for  the  second 


248  S6NNICA 

time.  Such  was  the  blindness  of  his  anger  that  he 
rushed  in  among  the  enemy,  and  several  times  came 
near  falling  beneath  their  blows. 

The  day  was  almost  ended.  The  Saguntine  soldiers 
reached  the  vicinity  of  the  camp,  while  the  unarmored 
citizens  scattering  throughout  the  battle  field  dispatched 
the  wounded  and  tried  to  set  fire  to  the  besieging 
engines.  They  would  have  destroyed  them  all  had  it 
not  been  for  Maherbal,  Hannibal's  lieutenant,  who  came 
out  of  the  camp  with  some  cohorts  of  cavalry.  The 
besieged,  unable  to  resist  the  cavalry  on  open  ground, 
began  slowly  to  retire.  When  night  closed  in  they  re- 
occupied  the  breach,  commenting  with  joyful  shouts 
upon  the  victory  which  mitigated  their  disappointment 
over  the  non-appearance  of  the  Romans. 

Actaeon,  with  those  Saguntines  who  had  most  distin- 
guished themselves  in  the  battles,  set  to  work  fortifying 
the  city.  He  explained  to  the  old  men  of  the  Senate  how 
difficult  it  would  be  long  to  defend  the  opening.  It  was 
impossible  to  repeat  the  prodigy  of  that  afternoon  many 
times;  and  by  the  light  of  torches  the  people  spent  the 
whole  night  working  behind  the  breach,  throwing  down 
tiled  roofs  and  demolishing  walls. 

Merchants  and  slaves,  rich  city  dames  and  women 
from  the  suburbs,  all  mingled  together,  wielding  pick- 
axes, rolling  stones  and  carrying  baskets  of  clay.  Even 
the  Ancients  of  the  Senate  took  part  in  this  titanic 
work,  which  lasted  throughout  the  night  and  a  great  part 
of  the  following  day. 

Euphobias  the  philosopher,  who  remained  idle  in 
spite  of  the  insults  of  those  who  worked,  ironically  re- 
called the  memory  of  the  primitive  founders  of  the  city, 


THE  WALLS  OF  SAGUNTUM          249 

kb«  Cyclopes  who  moved  stones  as  big  as  mountains  and 
had  thrown  up  the  base  of  the  Acropolis. 

The  labor  was  not  finished  until  the  next  afternoon, 
and  at  the  same  moment  the  besieging  army  began  to 
stir.  It  marched  solidly  to  the  assault,  silently,  sullenly, 
revealing  the  fixed  determination  of  taking  possession  at 
the  first  onset  of  that  breach  which  had  put  them  to 
shame  the  day  before. 

They  passed  through  the  clouds  of  stones  and  arrows 
which  the  besieged  hurled  at  them,  and  the  cohorts  lead* 
ing  on  a  run  climbed  up  the  pile  of  debris,  struggling 
with  the  more  audacious  Saguntines,  who  still  disputed 
passage  through  the  breach.  After  a  short  conflict  the 
besiegers  made  themselves  masters  of  the  entrance  to  the 
city,  and  they  burst  into  exclamations  of  triumph. 

Hannibal  marched  intrepidly  at  the  head  of  his  sol- 
diers; but  on  gaining  the  crest  of  the  pile  in  the  breach 
he  stepped  backward  with  an  expression  of  disgust. 

Before  him  stretched  a  broad  waste  of  demolished 
houses,  and  beyond  the  hills  of  debris  rose  a  second 
monstrous  wall,  constructed  in  haste,  as  if  an  enormous 
broom  had  swept  the  desolated  structures  of  the  inter- 
ior to  the  entrance  of  the  city.  Great,  square-hewn  stones, 
chunks  of  masonry,  broken  columns,  were  laid  with  the 
regularity  of  blocks  in  a  wall,  and  the  interstices  were 
chinked  with  fresh  clay.  This  wall  quickly  raised  by  a 
supreme  effort  of  the  whole  city  was  taller  than  the 
previous  one,  and  in  the  form  of  a  curve  it  joined  with 
the  two  curtains  of  the  ancient  walls  which  were  still 
standing. 

Hannibal  paled  with  wrath  on  seeing  that  all  his  ef- 
forts had  served  only  to  make  him  master  of  a  pitiful 


250  S6NNICA 

little  piece  of  ground  covered  by  heaps  of  ruins  and  that 
by  prodigious  skill  the  walls  which  he  had  battered  down 
had  risen  again  beyond  in  a  single  night.  Saguntum 
would  destroy  her  houses  to  refortify  herself  with  new 
barriers,  cutting  off  his  passage!  He  would  have  to 
conquer  the  ground  inch  by  inch,  street  by  street,  and  it 
might  cost  him  months  and  years  to  narrow  it  down, 
first  around  the  Forum,  then  up  to  the  hill  of  the  Acro- 
polis, before  he  could  succeed  in  making  it  surrender. 

On  the  summit  of  their  new  wall  the  Saguntines 
showed  themselves  as  resolute  as  the  day  before,  and 
their  bows  and  slings  prevented  the  assault  of  the  enemy, 
who  ended  by  falling  back,  remaining  under  cover  of  the 
debris  at  the  breach. 

Hannibal  stood  outside  the  city  wall,  contemplating 
the  heights  of  the  Acropolis.  He  realized  that  he  might 
gradually  sacrifice  his  whole  army  if  he  continued  at- 
tacking Saguntum  on  the  level  and  weaker  side  where  the 
besieged  defended  the  ground  so  tenaciously.  Calling 
Maherbal  and  his  brother  Mago,  he  laid  before  them  the 
necessity  of  capturing  a  position  on  the  hill,  and  of  as- 
saulting a  portion  of  the  immense  Acropolis  to  attack 
the  city  from  that  direction,  obliging  it  to  surrender. 

Several  days  went  by  without  resumption  of  hostilities 
on  the  side  toward  the  river.  The  engines  of  war  had 
been  moved  over  to  the  foot  of  the  hill,  and  they  direct- 
ed their  heavy  projectiles  against  the  farthest  walls  of 
the  Acropolis.  These  were  old  and  had  not  been  re- 
paired, since  the  Saguntines  trusted  in  the  impregnability 
of  the  steeps. 

Moreover  the  number  of  defenders  was  insufficient  to 
garrison  the  extensive  precincts  of  Saguntum,  while  the 


THE  WALLS  OF  SAGUNTUM          251 

besieger  had  at  his  disposal  an  immense  armed  multi- 
tude which  could  hurl  itself  against  several  places  at 
once. 

One  night  in  the  Forum,  Actaeon  encountered  Sonnica, 
who  was  seeking  him,  followed  by  Alcon  the  Prudent. 

"  The  Elders  have  need  of  you/'  said  the  beautiful 
Greek  woman,  with  a  tone  of  sadness.  "  Behold  Alcon, 
who  wishes  to  speak  with  you." 

"  Listen,  Athenian,"  said  the  Saguntine  gravely. 
"  The  days  are  passing  and  our  needed  succor  does  not 
come  from  Rome.  Is  it  because  our  legates  have  been 
unable  to  reach  the  territory  of  the  allied  nation,  and 
that  the  Senate  of  the  great  Republic  is  ignorant  of  our 
situation?  Is  it  because  Rome  imagines  that  Hannibal, 
repenting  of  his  audacity,  has  raised  the  siege?  We 
need  to  know  what  our  ally  thinks  concerning  us.  We 
wish  the  Senate  of  Rome  to  know  in  detail  what  Sagun- 
tum  is  doing,  and  the  Ancients,  at  my  suggestion,  have 
thought  of  you." 

"  Of  me  ?  And  what  do  they  wish  ?"  asked  Actaeon 
in  surprise,  looking  at  the  mournful  Sonnica. 

"  They  wish  you  to  start  for  Rome  this  very  night. 
Here  is  gold !  Take  also  these  tablets  which  will  serve 
as  credentials,  so  that  the  Senate  shall  recognize  you  as 
an  embassador  extraordinary  from  Saguntum.  We  are 
not  sending  you  to  a  festival.  The  exit  is  difficult,  and  it 
will  be  even  more  difficult  to  find,  on  these  enemy-infested 
shores,  anyone  to  convey  you  to  Rome.  You  should 
start  to-night;  this  moment,  if  possible;  letting  your- 
self down  from  the  walls  of  the  Acropolis,  on  the  side 
toward  the  mountains  where  there  are  fewer  enemies; 


252  SoNNICA 

to-morrow  may  be  too  late.  Fly,  and  return  soon  with 
the  aid  which  we  await  with  anguish !" 

Actaeon  took  the  gold  and  the  tablets  which  Alcon 
offered  him,  but  not  without  making  excuses,  realizing 
the  gravity  of  the  undertaking. 

"  No  one  can  perform  the  mission  better,"  said  the 
Saguntine ;  "  that  is  why  I  have  turned  to  you.  Your 
life  has  been  spent  running  over  the  world;  you  speak 
many  tongues;  and  you  are  not  lacking  in  finesse  and 
valor.  Are  you  acquainted  with  Rome?" 

"  No,  my  father's  father  made  war  against  her,  under 
orders  of  Pyrrhus." 

"  Then  go  to  her  now  as  a  friend,  as  an  ally,  and  may 
the  gods  grant  that  some  day  we  shall  bless  the  moment 
in  which  you  came  to  Saguntum !" 

Actaeon  was  not  eager  to  start.  It  seemed  to  him  a 
shameful  act  to  abandon  the  city  at  that  critical  moment, 
to  leave  Sonnica  within  a  besieged  town. 

"  I  am  a  stranger,  Alcon,"  he  said  simply.  "  No  tie 
of  blood  unites  me  to  your  fate.  Are  you  not  afraid 
that  I  shall  flee  forever,  leaving  you  abandoned?" 

"  No,  Athenian,  I  know  you,  and  that  is  why  I  have 
stood  responsible  for  your  fidelity  to  the  Elders.  Son- 
nica also  has  sworn  that  you  will  return  if  you  do  not 
fall  into  the  power  of  the  enemy." 

The  Greek  looked  at  his  beloved  as  if  asking  her 
whether  he  should  go,  and  she  bowed  her  head,  resigned 
to  the  sacrifice.  Actseon  then  expressed  himself  as  ready. 

"  Farewell,  Alcon !  Tell  the  Elders  that  the  Athenian 
Actaeon  will  be  crucified  in  Hannibal's  camp  or  he  will 
appear  before  the  Senate  of  Rome  presenting  your 
suit." 


THE  WALLS  OF  SAGUNTUM         253 

He  kissed  Sonnica  on  the  eyes  again  and  again,  and 
the  beautiful  Greek  woman,  restraining  her  tears,  plead- 
ed to  be  allowed  to  follow  him  along  with  Alcon  as  far 
as  the  summit  of  the  Acropolis,  that  she  might  see  him 
a  few  moments  longer. 

The  three  walked  in  the  dark  across  the  esplanades  of 
the  ancient  city,  along  the  walls  of  the  Acropolis.  They 
had  blown  out  their  torch  in  order  not  to  attract  the 
attention  of  the  besiegers,  and  they  went  on,  guided  by 
the  diffused  light  of  the  stars,  which  seemed  to  shine 
with  more  brilliancy,  as  if  intensified  by  the  cold  of  the 
night  which  was  one  of  the  first  of  winter. 

Alcon  was  searching  for  a  place  on  the  wall  of  which 
he  had  been  told  by  some  of  the  Elders  who  were  more 
familiar  with  the  Acropolis.  When  they  had  found  it 
the  Saguntine  groped  in  the  dark  until  he  reached  the 
end  of  a  heavy  rope  fastened  to  a  merlon,  and  he  flung 
it  over  into  space. 

The  departure  took  place  in  absolute  secret.  The  very 
Elders  who  had  planned  the  journey  for  their  ambassa- 
dor and  had  arranged  his  flight,  concealed  themselves 
and  did  not  witness  it.  Sonnica  embraced  Actseon,  sob- 
bing, and  clinging  to  his  neck. 

"  Go  quickly,  Athenian,"  said  the  Saguntine  im- 
patiently. "  This  first  hour  of  the  night  is  the  best ;  many 
groups  of  soldiers  are  still  stirring  around  the  camps 
before  going  to  sleep.  You  can  pass  through  now  with- 
out being  observed,  while  later,  in  the  silence  of  the 
night,  the  sentinels  will  challenge  you." 

Actseon  freed  himself  from  Sonnica's  arms,  and  leaning 
over  the  walls  he  grasped  the  rope  in  the  darkness. 


254  S6NNICA 

"  Have  confidence  in  our  gods,"  said  Alcon,  as  a  part- 
ing word.  "  Although  it  may  seem  as  if  they  have  aban- 
doned us,  they  ever  watch  over  Saguntum.  Not  long  ago 
a  fugitive  slave  from  the  camp  revealed  before  the 
Elders  that  the  Vaccaei  and  the  Carpetani,  exasperated 
by  the  robbery  of  the  detachments  which  Hannibal  sent 
to  gather  supplies,  have  revolted  against  him,  and  have 
beheaded  his  emissaries.  It  seems  that  Hannibal,  with 
a  part  of  his  army,  will  have  to  abandon  the  siege  and 
go  to  punish  them.  We  shall  have  fewer  enemies  before 
us,  and  if  you  return  with  the  legions  from  Rome,  Sagun- 
tum will  be  for  the  Carthaginians  what  the  JEgates 
Islands  were  for  them  in  Sicily.  Ah !  How  much  better 
is  peace!" 

With  this  melancholy  exclamation  Alcon  said  farewell 
to  the  Greek,  who  descended  the  rope  in  silence.  His 
feet  soon  rested  upon  a  part  of  the  rock  on  which  the 
wall  stood.  He  let  go  the  rope  and  began  groping  his 
way  down,  catching  hold,  in  his  precipitous  descent,  of 
the  scrawny  olive  trees  which  twisted  over  the  heights 
as  if  complaining  of  the  asperity  of  the  rocks. 

At  the  feet  of  the  Greek,  in  the  black  solitude  of  the 
plain,  glittered  the  light  of  camp  fires.  Perhaps  they 
were  advance  guards  of  the  camp  watching  that  part  of 
the  mountain,  or  marauders  who  followed  the  army,  and 
had  established  themselves  there  out  of  Hannibal's 
sight. 

Actaeon  watched  the  plain  and  picked  his  way  cau- 
tiously, crouching  along  by  a  stony  ridge,  stopping  often 
to  listen,  holding  his  breath.  He  thought  he  was  being 
shadowed,  that  someone  was  skulking  behind  him.  Not 


THE  WALLS  OF  SAGUNTUM          255 

far  away  blazed  a  great  fire,  and  against  its  lurid  smoke 
silhouettes  of  men  and  women  were  outlined. 

When  he  stood  erect  to  explore  the  dark  fields  in  order 
to  circle  away  from  the  fire,  someone  suddenly  caught 
him  by  the  shoulders,  and  a  hoarse  voice  murmured  in 
his  ears,  between  peals  of  loud  and  stupid  laughter: 

"  Now  I  have  you  at  last ! You  can  not  hide  your- 
self from  me !" 

Actseon  squirmed  from  the  clutching  hands,  and  tug- 
ging at  the  broad  knife  he  wore  in  his  belt  sprang  in 
front  of  the  unknown  in  an  attitude  of  defense.  It  was 
a  woman!  By  the  dim  starlight  the  Greek  beheld  her 
gesture  of  indecision  and  surprise. 

"Are  you  not  Geryon  the  slinger?"  she  murmured, 
holding  her  hands  out  to  the  Athenian. 

They  stared  at  each  other,  their  faces  almost  meeting 
in  the  darkness,  and  the  Greek  recognized  in  the  woman 
the  unhappy  lupa  who  had  fed  him  the  first  night  of  his 
arrival  in  Saguntum.  She  seemed  even  more  surprised 
than  the  Athenian  at  the  meeting. 

"  Is  it  you,  Actaeon?  It  seems  as  if  the  gods  put  me 
in  your  path,  although  you  scorn  me.  You  are  running 
away  from  the  city,  are  you  not?  You  must  be  tired  of 
Sunnica  the  rich;  you  do  not  want  to  die  like  those 
merchants  whom  Hannibal  the  invincible  will  put  to  the 
knife !  You  are  doing  well !  Fly !  Fly  far  away !" 

She  glanced  apprehensively  at  the  camp  fire  as  if 
she  feared  the  approach  of  the  soldiers  who  were  warm- 
ing themselves  around  it,  laughing  and  drinking  with  a 
group  of  lupas  from  the  port. 

The  miserable  harlot,  in  lowered  voice,  told  the  Greek 
why  she  was  there.  She  was  the  favorite  of  Geryon,  a 


256  S6NNICA 

Balearic  slinger.  He  had  left  his  companions  a  moment 
before,  and  had  got  out  of  her  way  so  as  not  to  have 
to  give  her  the  wages  he  had  just  received,  and  in  search- 
ing for  him  she  had  stumbled  upon  Actaeon.  He  might 
return,  or  his  companions  might  approach,  attracted  by 
their  voices ;  it  was  dangerous  for  Actseon  to  remain  where 
he  was. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do?" 

"  I  want  to  reach  the  coast,  and  follow  along  it  until 
I  find  a  fishing  smack  which  will  take  me  to  Emporion 
or  to  Denia.  I  have  money  to  pay  my  passage.  After- 
ward I  will  look  for  a  ship  to  take  me  away,  very  far 
away." 

"  You  will  not  return,  will  you  ?  I  do  not  wish  you 
to  return.  If  you  only  knew  how  often  I  have  thought 
of  you  while  men  were  killing  each  other  on  the  walls! 
I  shall  never  see  you  again,  but  I  would  rather  not  see 
you  than  have  you  remain  in  the  city  or  become  the 
slave  of  my  lover  the  slinger.  Hannibal  will  finish  all 
of  them !  Ah,  cruel  city !  And  how  I  long  to  see  all  those 
rich  women  fall  before  Hannibal's  troops — those  women 
who  used  to  have  us  beaten  when  we  came  near  them  at 
the  port!" 

The  poor  harlot,  extending  her  hand  to  the  Greek,  be- 
gan to  guide  him  through  the  fields. 

"  Come !"  she  murmured ;  "  I  will  conduct  you  to  the 
beach,  and  from  there  you  can  continue  on  your  way 
without  other  help  than  that  of  the  gods.  Seeing  you 
with  me  they  will  think  you  are  a  Celtiberian  soldier 
with  his  woman,  looking  for  a  place  to  spend  the  night. 
Come!  I  fed  you  the  first  night  you  came  here,  and  I 
will  save  you  on  this  last." 


THE  WALLS  OF  SAGUNTUM         257 

They  drew  near  the  shore.  As  they  passed  several 
camp  fires  they  were  hailed  by  obscene  calls  from  the 
soldiers  and  the  women  who  thought  them  an  amorous 
pair  in  search  of  a  hiding-place.  Some  armed  groups 
allowed  them  to  pass  without  the  slightest  suspicion. 

The  murmur  of  the  waves  on  the  sand  grew  louder. 
They  were  walking  through  the  rushes,  sinking  into  the 
warm  and  oozy  bottom  of  the  lagoon  formed  by  the 
overflow  of  the  tide. 

The  poor  lupa  stood  still. 

"  Here  I  leave  you,  Actseon.  If  you  wished  I  would 
follow  you  as  your  slave !  But  you  do  not  wish  it ;  I  know 

what  I  am 1  can  be  nothing  to  you!  You  are  going 

away  forever,  but  I  am  content  because  you  are  fleeing 
from  Sonnica.  Before  we  part,  kiss  me,  my  divinity! 
No,  not  on  the  eyes on  the  mouth thus  !" 

The  Athenian,  with  tender  commiseration,  moved  by 
the  kindness  of  the  miserable  creature,  kissed  the  dry 
and  flaccid  lips,  from  which  escaped  the  insufferable 
odor  of  the  wine  of  the  Balearic  slingers. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THE  ROME  OF  FABIU8  THE  DELAYER 

WHEN  the  sun's  first  rays  reddened  the  walls  of  the 
Capitol  the  life  of  Rome  had  been  astir  for  more  than 
an  hour. 

The  Romans  arose  from  their  couches  by  the  light  of 
the  morning  stars.  Carts  from  the  Campagna  rolled  in 
the  darkness  through  the  tortuous  streets,  slaves 
awakened  by  the  crowing  of  the  cock  trudged  along 
carrying  baskets  and  farm  utensils,  and  by  the  hour  of 
dawn  all  the  houses  had  their  doors  thrown  open,  and  the 
citizens  not  employed  in  the  fields  gathered  in  the  Forum, 
that  centre  of  traffic  and  of  public  business,  that  had  be- 
gun to  be  adorned  with  the  earlier  temples,  but  still 
retained  broad  barren  spaces  upon  which  in  later  cen- 
turies were  to  rise  the  architectural  glories  of  Rome, 
mistress  of  the  world. 

Actason  had  been  in  the  great  city  for  two  days,  lodged 
in  an  extramural  inn  established  by  a  Greek.  He  never 
ceased  to  marvel  at  this  austere  Republic,  existing  almost 
in  poverty,  a  hardy  nation  of  farmers  and  soldiers  who 
filled  the  world  with  their  fame  while  they  endured 
greater  privation  than  any  hamlet  on  the  outskirts  of 
Athens. 

Actaeon  expected  to  appear  before  the  Senate  that 
very  day.  The  majority  of  the  Fathers  of  the  Republic 

9U 


FABIUS  THE  DELAYER  259 

lived  in  the  country,  in  rustic  villas  with  walls  of  unsea- 
soned adobe  roofed  with  branches,  overseeing  the  work 
of  their  slaves,  guiding  the  plow  like  Cincinnatus  and 
Camillas;  when  affairs  of  -state  called  them  to  the 
Senate  they  came  into  Rome  in  their  carts,  drawn  by 
oxen,  riding  among  baskets  of  vegetables  and  sacks  of 
grain,  and  with  their  toil-calloused  hands  they  arrayed 
themselves  in  the  toga  before  entering  the  Forum,  trans- 
figured by  the  majesty  lent  by  their  flowing  vestments. 

The  Greek  arrived  at  the  Forum  by  sunrise,  encounter- 
ing the  customary  crowd — venerable  Romans  wrapped 
in  their  togas  discoursing  before  the  young  men  and 
their  clients  on  the  art  of  prudently  placing  money  upon 
good  security,  the  chief  attainment  of  every  citizen; 
and  hungry  Greek  padagogues  scheming  ever,  in  search 
of  a  situation  among  that  sombre  people  more  apt  in 
war  than  in  culture;  old  legionaries,  their  gray  military 
cloaks  covered  with  patches,  their  thoughts  yearning 
back  to  the  by-gone  wars  against  Pyrrhus  and  Carthage, 
persecuted  by  debts  and  threatened  with  slavery  by  their 
creditors,  in  spite  of  the  cicatrices  all  over  their  bodies; 
and  the  plebe,  with  no  other  clothing  than  the  lacerna — 
a  short  cape  of  coarse  cloth  finished  with  the  cucullus 
or  pointed  hood — the  multitudinous  Roman  plebe,  ex- 
ploited and  oppressed  by  the  patricians,  ever  dreaming, 
as  a  remedy  for  their  ills,  of  new  divisions  of  the  public 
lands  which,  by  means  of  usury,  gradually  fell  into  the 
hands  of  the  rich. 

On  the  steps  of  the  Comitium  the  members  of  a  tribe 
were  gathered  to  probate  the  will  of  one  of  their  people 
who  had  just  died.  Near  the  military  tribune  veteran 
centurions  wearing  greaves  and  helmets  of  bronze  stood 


260  S6NNICA 

leaning  on  staves  of  vine-wood,  the  badge  of  their 
military  rank,  discussing  the  siege  of  Saguntum  and 
the  audacity  of  Hannibal,  eager  to  march  immediately 
against  the  Carthaginian. 

On  the  huge  blocks  of  blue  stone  which  paved  the 
Forum  the  vendors  of  hot  drinks  established  their  great 
craters,  beating  on  them  with  ladles  to  attract  the  people, 
and  at  the  foot  of  the  steps  of  the  temple  of  Concord  some 
Etruscan  buffoons,  wearing  hideous  masks,  began  their 
grotesque  pantomime,  attracting  the  children  and  the 
idle  from  all  sides  of  the  quadrangle. 

It  was  cold;  a  damp  and  icy  wind  was  blowing  off 
the  Pontine  marshes;  the  sky  was  gray;  and  from  the 
crowd  stirring  about  the  Forum  rose  a  continuous  and 
melancholy  buzzing.  Actaeon  compared  this  square  with 
the  bright  Agora  of  Athens,  and  even  with  the  Forum 
of  Saguntum  in  its  days  of  peace.  The  Grecian  joyous- 
ness  was  lacking  in  Rome,  the  sweet  and  gladsome  light- 
ness of  an  artistic  people,  careless  of  riches,  and  if  en- 
gaging in  commerce  doing  so  only  that  it  may  live  more 
expansively.  This  was  a  people  cold  and  sad,  devoted 
to  lucre  and  to  the  laying  up  of  money,  disdainful  of 
ideals,  with  no  other  industry  than  agriculture  and  war, 
squeezing  the  last  grain  of  wheat  from  their  lands,  and 
robbing  the  enemy;  methodical,  lacking  initiative  and 
youthfulness. 

"  This  people,"  said  the  Athenian  to  himself,  "  seems 
never  to  have  been  as  young  as  twenty.  Even  the 
children  seem  to  be  born  old." 

Actceon  with  his  Grecian  sagacity  thought  over  what 
he  had  seen  within  the  two  days;  the  cruel  discipline 
pf  the  family,  of  the  religion,  and  of  the  State,  which 


FABIUS  THE  DELAYER  261 

held  the  citizens  in  subjection;  their  absolute  ignorance 
of  poetry  and  art ;  that  stern  training,  sad,  based  only  on 
duty,  which  obliged  every  Roman  to  a  long  and  painful 
obedience  so  that  he  might  some  day  be  able  to  command. 

The  father,  who  in  Greece  was  a  friend,  in  Rome  was 
a  tyrant.  For  the  Latin  city  there  existed  no  other 
member  of  the  family  than  the  father;  the  wife,  the 
children,  the  clients,  were  almost  on  the  level  of  slaves; 
they  were  instruments  of  toil,  without  rights  and  with- 
out name.  The  gods  heard  only  him;  in  his  house  he 
was  priest  and  judge;  he  could  kill  his  wife,  sell  the 
children  three  times  over,  and  his  authority  over  the 
offspring  persisted  down  the  years;  the  conquering 
consul,  the  omnipotent  senator,  trembled  when  in  his 
father's  presence;  and  in  this  gloomy  and  despotic  or- 
ganization, more  stern  even  than  that  of  Sparta,  Actaeon 
divined  a  latent  force  cradled  in  mystery  which  some 
day  should  burst  its  bonds,  clasping  the  world  as  in  an 
embrace  of  iron.  The  Greek  detested  this  gloomy  nation, 
but  it  held  his  admiration. 

Its  stamina,  the  tough  and  bellicose  spirit  of  the 
race,  were  revealed  in  the  Forum.  The  Capitol  on  the 
summit  of  the  sacred  mount  was  a  veritable  fortress, 
with  naked  and  gloomy  walls,  destitute  of  such  decora- 
tions as  made  the  citadel  of  Athens  glow  with  an  eternal 
smile.  The  temple  of  Jupiter  Capitolinus,  with  its  low 
roof  and  its  row  of  flattened,  tower-like  columns,  barely 
rose  above  the  city  ramparts.  Below,  in  the  Forum,  pre- 
vailed a  similar  grave  and  gloomy  ugliness.  The  build- 
ings were  low  and  heavy;  they  seemed  rather  construc- 
tions of  war  than  temples  of  the  gods  and  public  build- 
ings. The  great  network  of  highroads  starting  from  the 


262  S6NNICA 

Forum  was  the  only  embellishment  in  which  Rome  in- 
terested herself,  and  that  because  of  their  usefulness  in 
transporting  her  legions  and  in  the  hauling  of  farm 
products.  From  the  Forum  the  Appian  Way  could  be 
seen  stretching  in  a  straight  line,  paved  with  blue  stone, 
with  its  two  rows  of  tombs  which  loomed  up  in  the  sub- 
urbs of  the  city,  fading  in  the  distance  through  the  Cam- 
pagna  in  the  direction  of  Capua;  and  at  the  opposite 
extreme  led  off  the  Flaminian  Way,  which  ran  by  the 
coast,  extending  into  Cisalpine  Gaul.  Upon  the  immense 
Campagna  rose  like  fluttering  red  banners  the  first 
aqueducts  constructed  during  the  reign  of  Appius  Claud- 
ius to  supply  the  city  with  fresh  water  from  the  moun- 
tains, combating  thus  the  malaria  of  the  Pontine  marshes. 

But  aside  from  these  crude  monuments,  the  extensive, 
gigantic  city,  which  of  itself  could  arm  over  a  hundred 
and  fifty  thousand  men,  presented  a  savage  and  wretched 
aspect,  almost  like  that  of  those  tribes  which  Actseon 
had  seen  on  his  trip  through  Celtiberia. 

There  were  few  houses  of  more  than  a  single  story; 
the  majority  were  great  cabins  of  round  walls  of  stone 
or  clay,  and  conical  roofs  of  boards  and  logs.  After 
the  Gauls  burned  Rome  the  city  had  been  reconstructed 
in  a  year,  haphazard,  with  precipitate  celerity.  In  some 
wards  the  houses  were  huddled  so  closely  together  that 
they  barely  gave  room  for  a  man  to  pass  between  them, 
while  in  others  they  stood  apart  as  if  they  were  country 
villas  surrounded  by  small  fields  inside  the  city  walls. 
Streets  did  not  exist;  they  were  but  tortuous  prolonga- 
tions of  the  roads  which  led  to  Rome;  arteries  formed 
at  random,  twisting  hither  and  thither,  following  the 
sinuosities  of  a  disorderly  construction;  and  suddenly 


FABIUS  THE  DELAYER 


broadening  into  wide,  untilled  lands  where  the  refuse  of 
the  houses  was  accumulating  in  piles,  and  where  crows 
croaked  by  night,  pecking  at  the  carrion  of  dead  dogs 
and  asses. 

The  crude  simplicity  of  this  city  of  farmers,  money 
lenders,  and  soldiers,  was  reflected  in  the  appearance 
of  its  inhabitants.  Patrician  matrons  spun  wool  and 
hemp  at  the  doors  of  their  houses,  clad  only  in  tunics  of 
coarse  weave,  and  wearing  bronze  ornaments  on  their 
breasts  and  in  their  ears.  The  first  coinage  of  silver 
had  taken  place  subsequent  to  the  war  with  the  Samnites ; 
the  clumsy  and  heavy  copper  a*  was  the  current  money, 
and  the  rich  Grecian  objects  of  virtu  brought  by  the 
legions  after  the  war  with  Sicily  almost  received  adora- 
tion in  the  homes  of  the  patricians,  but  were  viewed 
askance  by  many  as  amulets  which  might  corrupt  the  old 
sturdy  Roman  customs.  Senators  who  owned  extensive 
territories  and  hundreds  of  slaves,  paraded  their  togas 
covered  with  patches  in  civic  pride  through  the  Forum. 
In  all  Rome  there  existed  but  a  single  table-service  of 
silver,  the  property  of  the  Republic,  which  passed  from 
the  house  of  one  patrician  to  that  of  another  when  an 
envoy  arrived  from  Greece,  an  ambassador  from  Sicily, 
or  aix  opulent  merchant  from  Carthage,  habituated  to 
Asiatic  refinements  and  in  whose  honor  banquets  had 
to  be  given. 

Actaeon,  accustomed  to  philosophic  arguments  in  the 
Athenian  Agora,  to  dialogues  on  poetry  or  on  the  mys- 
teries of  the  soul  wherever  two  unoccupied  Greeks 
chanced  to  meet,  strolled  through  the  Forum  listening  to 
the  conversations  carried  on  in  that  rude  and  inflexible 
Latin  which  wounded  an  Athenian's  ears.  In  one  group 


264  S6NNICA 

they  were  discussing  the  health  of  the  flocks  and  the 
price  of  wool;  in  another  they  were  closing  the  sale  of 
an  ox  in  the  presence  of  five  adult  citizens  who  served 
as  witnesses.  The  purchaser  placed  the  bronze,  the 
value  of  the  purchase,  in  a  balance,  and  touching  the  ox 
with  his  hand  he  said  in  solemn  accent,  as  if  reciting 
an  oration: 

"  This  is  mine,  according  to  the  law  of  the  Quirites. 
I  have  paid  for  it  with  this  metal  duly  weighed." 

Farther  on,  a  legionary  with  hungry  face  was  adjust- 
ing a  loan  with  an  old  man,  offering  as  security  his  hel- 
met and  his  greaves,  and  pronouncing  the  formulas  of  the 
law  in  such  a  case: 

"Dart  spondes?"  (Do  you  promise  to  give?)  the 
soldier  asked. 

"  Spondeo  "  (I  promise),  replied  the  lender. 

The  bargain  was  closed  with  these  sober  words,  the 
alteration  of  a  single  syllable  in  which  was  sufficient 
to  annul  the  operation,  for  the  Romans  professed  a 
superstitious  respect  for  the  letter  and  formula  of  their 
laws. 

In  another  group  they  were  discussing  the  points 
which  a  slave  must  have  in  order  to  be  useful  to  his  mas- 
ter and  to  be  maintained  by  him;  and  throughout  the 
entire  Forum  this  grave  people,  austere,  and  without 
ideals,  talked  only  of  possessions,  and  of  the  manner  of 
increasing  them. 

The  attention  of  the  Greek  was  attracted  by  a  youth 
who,  although  barely  twenty  years  of  age,  displayed 
the  gravity  of  an  old  man.  His  hair  was  red  and  close- 
cropped;  his  steady  gaze  gave  him  an  expression  of 
intelligence  and  penetration.  He  was  walking  slowly 


FABIUS  THE  DELAYER  265 

beside  a  boy  who  was  listening  to  him  attentively,  as 
to  his  master. 

"  Although  your  father  is  consul,"  said  the  red-headed 
man,  "  you  must  not  forget,  Scipio,  that  in  order  to  be  a 
good  citizen  and  to  serve  the  Republic,  it  is  necessary 
not  only  to  know  how  to  use  the  lance  and  to  manage 
a  horse,  but  to  know  how  to  till  the  soil,  and  to  be  familiar 
with  the  secrets  of  cultivation.  Some  day  you  may  com- 
mand our  armies,  and  you  will  not  only  have  to  conquer 
lands  for  Rome,  but  cultivate  them,  so  that  they  will 
produce  abundantly.  Do  you  realize  that?" 

"  Yes,  Cato,"  said  the  youth. 

"  Every  day  you  should  learn  a  month  of  the  calendar 
which  our  forefathers  made.  With  that  well  fixed  in  your 
memory  it  will  be  easier  for  you  to  command  your  slaves 
promptly  and  well  in  their  work  in  the  fields.  Yester- 
day I  taught  you  the  month  of  May;  repeat  it,  Scipio." 

"  Month  of  May,"  recited  the  boy  wrinkling  his  brows 
in  order  to  better  concentrate  his  mind.  "Thirty-one 
days.  The  nones  fall  on  the  seventh  day.  The  day  has 
fourteen  and  a  half  hours;  the  night  nine  hours  and 
a  half.  The  sun  is  in  the  sign  of  Taurus;  the  month  is 
under  the  protection  of  Apollo.  Wheat  should  be  weeded. 
Sheep  should  be  shorn.  The  wool  should  be  washed. 
Young  steers  should  be  put  under  the  yoke.  The  vetch 
should  be  mown  in  the  meadows.  The  lustration  of  the 
crops  should  be  performed.  Sacrifices  to  Mercury  and 
to  Flora." 

"  You  remember  it  well,  Scipio.  Our  ancestors  neither 
had  nor  desired  any  other  science;  they  were  satisfied 
with  knowing  what  they  should  do  in  each  month  through- 
out the  year,  and  with  this,  and  with  valor  and  audacity 


266  S6NNICA 

to  hold  their  fields,  and  to  take  possession  of  the  lands  of 
their  neighbors,  they  founded  our  city,  which  grows 
and  will  grow  until  it  becomes  the  greatest  in  the  world. 
We  are  not  charlatans  like  the  Greeks,  who  kneel  in  ad- 
miration before  marble  puppets  and  argue  like  buffoons 
about  what  comes  after  death.  We  are  not  madly  am- 
bitious like  the  Carthaginians,  who  base  their  life  on 
commerce  and  risk  all  their  wealth  upon  the  sea.  Our 
life  is  spent  on  the  land;  we  are  ruder  but  more  solid 
than  other  people;  we  advance  more  slowly,  but  we  shall 
go  farther.  On  the  soil  which  we  tread  for  the  first  time 
we  do  not  set  up  a  tent  as  do  others;  we  plunge  in  the 
plow,  and  that  is  why  what  Rome  takes  none  wrests 
from  her.  Do  not  forget  that,  Scipio !" 

The  Athenian  followed  not  far  behind.  The  words 
of  that  man,  old  at  twenty  years,  taught  him  more  than 
his  observations.  Rome  seemed  to  speak  through  his 
mouth  in  that  lesson  given  to  the  son  of  one  of  her  con- 
suls. 

"  You  should  know  also,"  continued  Cato,  "  the  domes- 
tic rules  of  every  good  citizen.  When  our  fathers  wished 
to  eulogize  a  worthy  man  they  called  him  'a  good  hus- 
bandman.' This  was  the  highest  praise.  At  that  time 
they  lived  on  the  land  itself,  in  rustic  tribes,  the  most 
honorable  of  all,  and  they  only  saw  Rome  on  market 
days  and  on  days  of  comitia.  There  are  still  good  citi- 
zens who  lead  the  sane  life  of  Cincinnatus  and  Camillus, 
and  only  come  when  the  Senate  gathers;  but  war,  with 
its  expeditions  to  new  countries,  has  corrupted  many, 
who  wish  only  to  live  in  the  city,  and  they  have  substi- 
tuted for  the  old  Roman  home,  with  its  roof  of  boards 
and  its  simple  penates,  houses  crowded  with  columns 


FABIUS  THE  DELAYER  267 

as  if  they  were  temples,  and  adorned  with  gods  and 
goddesses    which   they   order    from    Greece." 

The  austere  gesture  of  Cato  displayed  immense  scorn 
for  the  imported  refinements  which  had  begun  to  break 

down  the  sturdiness  of  his  native  land. 
» 

"  In  the  country  the  good  citizen  should  not  lose  a 
day.  If  the  weather  prevent  his  going  out  he  should 
entertain  himself  cleaning  the  stables  and  barnyards, 
fixing  up  the  old  utensils,  and  seeing  that  the  women 
mend  the  clothing.  Even  on  feast  days  something  can  be 
done ;  irrigate  the  young  vineyards,  wash  the  sheep,  go  to 
the  city  to  sell  oil  or  fruit.  No  time  should  be  lost  in 
consulting  haruspices  and  augurs,  nor  in  devotion  to 
cults  which  oblige  the  citizen  to  abandon  his  house. 
The  gods  of  the  household  or  of  the  nearest  cross-road 
are  sufficient.  The  lares,  the  manes,  and  the  silvani 
are  sufficient  to  protect  a  good  citizen.  Our  fathers 
had  no  others,  but  nevertheless  they  were  great." 

The  youthful  Scipio  listened  attentively,  but  his  eyes 
were  fixed  on  two  young  men  from  the  Campagna,  who 
with  the  cucullus  fallen  over  their  shoulders,  were  hav- 
ing a  boxing  match  close  to  a  vendor  of  mulled  wine.  The 
young  man's  cheeks  flushed  with  emotion  seeing  the  blows 
exchanged  by  the  athletes  with  quivering  muscles. 

"  If  the  citizen  dwell  in  Rome,"  continued  Cato,  with- 
out noticing  this  incident  which  failed  to  disturb  the 
gravity  of  the  Forum,  "  he  should  open  the  door  of  his 
house  at  dawn  of  day  to  explain  the  law  to  his  clients, 
and  to  place  his  money  prudently,  teaching  the  young  men 
the  art  of  increasing  their  savings  and  how  to  avoid 
ruinous  follies.  The  father  of  the  family  should  turn 
everything  into  money  and  waste  nothing.  If  he  give 


268  S6NNICA 

new  garments  to  his  slaves,  he  should  recover  the  old  ones 
for  other  uses.  He  should  sell  the  oil  and  the  wine  and 
the  wheat  which  are  left  over  at  the  close  of  the  year. 
Let  him  also  sell  the  old  oxen,  the  calves,  lambs,  the  wool, 
the  hides,  the  unserviceable  carts,  the  rusty  iron,  the  old, 
infirm,  and  sick  slaves.  Let  him  be  ever  selling.  The 
father  of  the  family  should  be  the  seller,  not  the  buyer. 
Note  that  well,  Scipio !" 

But  Scipio  was  restless  and  scarcely  heard  him. 

The  rustics  had  ceased  boxing,  and  the  youth,  eager  to 
be  off,  glanced  far  away  toward  the  river. 

"  Cato,  this  is  the  time  for  athletics.  I  must  go  to 
the  bank  of  the  Tiber  to  train  myself  in  running  and  in 
pugilism,  and  to  take  an  hour  for  swimming  afterward." 

"  Go  when  you  will,  and  heed  my  advice.  After  the 
lesson,  athletics  and  the  cold  bath,  which  harden  the 
body,  are  excellent.  The  citizen  who  wishes  to  serve  his 
country  must  not  only  be  prudent  but  strong." 

The  boy  walked  away,  and  Cato  retracing  his  steps 
met  the  Greek  who  was  following  him.  Actaeon's  appear- 
ance attracted  him,  and  he  approached. 

"Greek,"  he  said,  "what  do  you  think  of  our  city? 

"  It  is  a  gloomy  town,  but  a  great  one.  I  have  been 
in  Rome  only  three  days." 

"Are  you,  perchance,  the  messenger  from  Saguntum, 
who  will  appear  before  the  Senate  to-day?" 

Actseon  replied  in  the  affirmative,  and  the  Roman 
leaned  on  his  arm  with  grave  familiarity,  as  if  he  were 
an  old  friend. 

"  You  will  accomplish  very  little,"  he  said.  "  The 
Senate  is  suffering  with  a  sickness  just  now — an  excess 
of  prudence !  I  detest  mad  deeds ;  I  do  not  believe  that 


FABIUS  THE  DELAYER  269 

Hannibal  is  a  great  captain,  since  I  see  him  commit 
such  an  audacity  as  the  siege  of  Saguntum;  but  I  cannot 
tolerate  in  silence  the  faint-heartedness  with  which  Rome 
proceeds  in  her  affairs.  She  wishes  to  avail  herself  of 
all  means  to  keep  the  peace.  She  fears  war,  while  war 
with  Carthage  is  inevitable.  She  and  our  city  will  not 
fit  in  the  same  sack.  The  world  is  too  small  for  the 
two.  I  am  always  saying,  'Let  us  destroy  Carthage!' 
and  they  laugh  at  me.  Some  years  ago,  when  the  war 
of  the  mercenaries  broke  out,  we  could  have  crushed 
her  with  ease.  By  sending  to  Africa  a  brace  of  legions 
the  revolted  Numidians  and  the  mercenaries  would  have 
finished  with  Carthage;  but  we  were  afraid;  after  her 
victory  Rome  occupied  herself  only  in  healing  her 
wounds.  We  feared  the  uprising  of  the  soldiery  of  all 
countries,  so  we  saved  Carthage,  helping  her  to  destroy 
her  revolted  mercenaries." 

"  It  is  different  now,"  said  Actaeon,  with  energy. 
"  Saguntum  is  an  ally,  and  if  Hannibal  makes  war  upon 
her  it  is  on  account  of  the  love  which  the  city  professes 
for  Rome." 

"  Yes ;  that  is  why  we  Romans  are  interested  in  her 
fate;  but  do  not  hope  for  much  from  the  Senate.  It  is 
more  anxious  about  the  pirates  of  the  Adriatic  who 
harrow  our  coasts,  that  rebellion  of  Demetrius  of  Pharos 
in  Illyria,  against  whom  we  are  about  to  send  an  army 
under  command  of  the  consul  Lucius  JEmilius." 

"  But  what  of  Saguntum  ?  If  you  abandon  her  how 
will  you  resist  the  audacious  Hannibal,  who  leads 
the  most  warlike  tribes  of  Iberia?  What  will  those  un- 
fortunates say  of  the  seriousness  with  which  Rome 
observes  her  alliances?" 


270  SONNICA 

"  Try  to  convince  the  Senate  with  your  arguments. 
I  am  convinced;  I  see  in  Carthage  the  sole  enemy  of 
Rome.  Would  that  they  were  all  of  my  mind!  They 
would  then  accept  the  audacious  challenge  of  the  son 
of  Hamilcar  and  would  declare  war  against  Carthage, 
going  to  meet  her  in  her  own  territory!  Happen  what 
may,  we  are  invincible.  Italy  is  a  compact  mass,  and 
as  advance  sentinels  of  our  camp,  we  have  in  the  Orient 
Illyria,  on  the  side  which  looks  into  Africa  we  have 
Sicily,  and  in  the  Occident  is  Sardinia,  while  the  lands 
which  Carthage  dominates  form  an  extensive  belt  of  nine 
hundred  leagues  which  runs  along  a  great  part  of  the 
coasts  of  Africa  and  all  those  of  Iberia;  but  so  narrow, 
and  peopled  by  so  many  different  races,  that  it  can 
easily  be  broken.  Though  Rome  might  lose  a  hundred 
battles,  she  will  always  be  Rome,  but  one  defeat  for 
Carthage  is  enough  to  dissolve  the  nation." 

"  If  only  they  all  thought  as  you  do,  Cato !" 

"If  the  Senate  thought  as  I  do  it  would  scorn  Deme- 
trius of  Pharos,  and  its  legions  would  have  been  in 
Saguntum  days  ago.  Perhaps  by  such  means  a  danger 
would  be  avoided,  because  who  knows  where  that  young 
African  will  go,  and  what  he  may  not  dare  if  he 
succeed  in  conquering  without  hindrance  a  city  allied  to 
Rome!  That  is  why  I,  a  free  citizen,  give  lessons  as 
a  pedagogue,  as  you  have  just  witnessed.  That  boy  is 
the  son  of  the  consul  Publius  Cornelius  Scipio,  and  all 
the  virtues  of  his  family  are  revived  in  him.  Perhaps 
he  may  be  the  one  destined  to  bar  Hannibal's  way,  to 
destroy  the  insolent  power  of  that  Carthage  against 
whom  we  are  ever  clashing." 

They  continued  strolling  through  the  Forum  discussing 


FABIUS  THE  DELAYER  271 

the  customs  of  Rome,  and  arguing  warmly  as  they  con- 
trasted them  with  those  of  Athens.  Then  the  austere 
Roman,  having  to  hold  conference  with  various  patri- 
cians in  regard  to  private  affairs,  to  which  he  attended 
with  great  scrupulousness,  said  farewell  to  the  Greek. 

On  being  left  alone  Actaeon  realized  that  he  was 
hungry.  It  would  be  some  time  before  the  Senate  would 
assemble,  and  wearied  of  the  noisy  stir  in  the  Forum 
he  passed  on,  walking  around  the  base  of  the  Capitoline, 
following  a  street  broader  than  the  others,  lined  with 
stone  buildings,  which  displayed  through  their  open 
doors  the  relative  abundance  of  patrician  families. 

He  entered  a  bakery  and  rapped  on  the  stone  of  the 
deserted  counter  with  an  as.  A  plaintive  voice  answered 
from  a  kind  of  cavern.  The  Greek  peered  into  the 
gloomy  grotto  and  saw  a  mill  for  grinding  wheat,  and 
yoked  to  it  a  man,  who  was  turning  it  with  great  effort. 

The  slave  came  out  almost  naked,  wiping  off  the  sweat 
which  was  streaming  down  his  forehead,  and  taking  the 
money  offered  by  the  Greek  handed  him  a  round  loaf. 
Then  he  stood  looking  Acteeon  over  with  curiosity. 

"  Do  you  own  the  bakery  ?"  Actaeon  asked. 

"  I  am  nothing  but  a  slave,"  he  replied  sadly.  "  My 
master  had  to  go  to  the  Forum  to  see  the  dealers  in 
wheat.  You  are  a  Greek,  are  yoA  not?" 

Before  Actseon  deigned  to  answer,  he  hastened  to  add 
with  melancholy  pride: 

"  I  have  not  always  been  a  slave.  I  have  been  in  this 
condition  but  a  short  time,  and  before  I  lost  my  freedom 
my  fervent  desire  was  to  visit  your  country.  O  Athens! 
The  city  where  poets  are  gods!" 


S6NNICA 


He  recited  in  Greek  some  verses  from  the  Prometheus 
of  JBschylus,  astonishing  Actaeon  by  the  purity  of  his 
accent  and  by  the  expression  which  he  communicated  to 
his  words. 

"  Can  it  be  that  here  in  Rome  your  masters  dedicate 
you  to  poesy?"  asked  the  Athenian,  laughing. 

"  I  was  a  poet  before  I  became  a  slave.  My  name  is 
Plautus." 

Glancing  around  as  if  fearing  to  be  surprised  by  some 
member  of  his  master's  family  he  continued  talking, 
happy  at  being  able  to  free  himself  from  the  torment  of 
the  mill. 

"  I  have  written  comedies.  I  tried  to  establish  the 
theatre  in  Rome,  which  is  almost  a  cult  among  your 
people.  The  Romans  have  little  sensibility  to  poetry. 
They  love  farces  ;  a  tragedy  that  would  move  the  Hellenes 
to  tears,  leaves  them  cold  ;  one  of  Aristophanes'  comedies 
would  put  them  to  sleep.  They,  Athenian,  enjoy  only 
the  Etruscan  buffoons,  those  grotesque  comedians  of  the 
farces  which  they  call  Atellanae,  and  the  hideous  maskers 
with  sharp  teeth  and  deformed  heads  who  stalk  in  the 
triumphal  processions  growling  their  obscenities.  They 
would  stone  the  heroes  of  your  tragedies,  while  on  the 
other  hand,  they  howl  with  enthusiasm  at  the  entry  of 
a  victorious  consul  when  the  soldiers  pass  disguised 
in  rams'  skins,  wearing  tufts  of  bristling  horse-hair, 
and  they  laugh  at  seeing  them  avenge  themselves  for  their 
humble  condition  by  insulting  the  conqueror  behind  his 
triumphal  car.  I  wrote  comedies  for  these  people,  and 
I  write  them  still  in  moments  when  my  master  ceases  beat- 
ing me  to  make  me  turn  the  mill.  The  patricians,  the 
free  citizens,  do  not  enjoy  seeing  themselves  personated 


PABIUS  THE  DELAYER 


in  the  scene.  Here  they  would  rend  Aristophanes  to 
pieces,  he  who  represented  upon  the  stage  the  most 
prominent  men  of  Athens.  My  heroes  are  slaves,  for- 
eigners, and  mercenaries,  and  they  make  the  audience 
laugh.  I  have  finished  a  comedy  there  within  that  den, 
ridiculing  the  fanfare  of  the  warriors.  I  would  recite 
it  if  I  did  not  fear  that  my  master  might  return  at  any 
moment." 

"  But  how  have  you  fallen  into  such  a  wretched  situa- 
tion after  having  been  the  entertainer  of  your  people?" 

"  I  committed  the  madness  of  founding  the  first  thea- 
tre in  Rome,  in  imitation  of  those  in  Greece.  It  was  a 
wooden  enclosure  on  the  outskirts  of  the  city.  I  bor- 
rowed money;  I  contracted  debts;  the  populace  came  to 
laugh,  but  they  gave  little.  I  was  ruined,  and  the  wise 
laws  of  Rome  condemn  him  who  cannot  pay  to  become  the 
slave  of  his  creditor.  This  baker  who  used  to  laugh  at 
my  comedies,  and  who  gladly  loaned  me  sacks  of  copper, 
is  now  getting  even  for  his  former  show  of  admiration  by 
making  me  turn  his  mill,  because  I  cost  less  than  an  ass. 
Every  peal  of  laughter  in  the  past  is  transformed  into 
a  blow  with  a  stick  dealt  across  my  back.  The  fate  of 
poets  !  You  Greeks  also  thanked  ^Eschylus  for  his  verses 
by  pelting  him  with  stones,  yet  he  was  ever  a  freeman." 

Plautus  became  silent,  but  after  a  melancholy  smile 
he  added  : 

"  I  trust  in  the  future.  I  shall  not  always  have  to 
be  a  slave;  perhaps  I  shall  find  someone  who  will  give 
me  back  my  liberty.  The  Romans  who  make  war  and 
see  new  countries  return  with  milder  customs  and  with  a 
love  of  art.  I  shall  be  free,  I  will  found  a  new  theatre, 
and  then,  -  then  -  " 


274.  S6NNICA 

Hope  shone  in  his  glance,  as  if  he  saw  the  realization  of 
the  dreams  with  which  he  embellished  his  gloomy  den, 
while,  panting  like  a  beast,  he  turned  the  enormous  cone 
of  stone. 

A  noise  was  heard  from  within  the  house,  and  before 
his  master's  children  could  see  him  Plautus  ran  to  yoke 
himself  again  to  the  mill-spindle,  while  the  Greek  left 
the  place,  astounded  by  this  episode. 

What  a  people  this,  which  converted  its  debtors  into 
slaves  and  turned  its  poets  into  beasts  of  burden ! 

The  Greek  sauntered  back  through  the  Forum  munch- 
ing his  loaf  of  bread.  He  was  waiting  for  the  Senate 
to  assemble,  and  to  pass  away  the  time  he  climbed  to 
the  crest  of  the  Palatine  Hill,  the  sacred  ground  which 
was  the  cradle  of  Rome.  He  visited  the  Lupercal  Grotto 
where  Romulus  and  Remus  had  been  suckled  by  the  she- 
wolf.  At  the  entrance  to  the  narrow  cave,  denuded 
by  the  winter,  the  Ruminal  fig  tree  extended  its  naked 
branches,  the  famous  tree  in  the  shade  of  which  the  twin 
founders  of  the  city  had  frolicked.  Near  it  on  a  granite 
pedestal  stood  the  wolf,  in  dark  and  lustrous  bronze,  the 
work  of  an  Etruscan  artist,  with  the  hideous  half-open 
fauces,  and  her  belly  bristling  with  a  double  row  of 
gleaming  teats  to  which  two  naked  children  clung,  sprawl- 
ing on  the  ground. 

From  this  height  Actaeon  looked  down  upon  the  broad 
city,  a  wave  of  roofs  between  the  seven  hills,  invading 
the  heights  and  dispersing  through  the  deep  valleys.  Al- 
most at  the  side  of  the  Palatine  rose  the  Capitolium,  the 
great  fortress  of  Rome,  on  the  naked  crags  of  the  Tar- 
peian  rock,  and  the  Greek  passed  from  the  summit  of 


FABIUS  THE  DELAYER  275 

one  to  that  of  the  other  to  examine  the  temple  .of  Jupiter 
Capitolinus,  more  famous  than  beautiful. 

He  turned  his  back  on  the  rude  temple  of  Mars,  which 
occupied  the  highest  point  of  the  Palatine,  and  following 
a  path  between  abrupt  rocks  he  crossed  to  the  Capitoline. 
On  his  way  he  met  the  priests  of  Jupiter,  walking  with 
sacerdotal  rigidity  as  if  ever  offering  sacrifices  to  their 
god.  He  saw  the  vestals  wrapped  in  their  flowing  white 
veils,  marching  with  a  sturdy  tread.  Some  milites  were 
climbing  up  to  the  temple  of  Mars,  their  broad  breasts  en- 
cased in  overlapping  bands  of  copper,  their  bare  thighs 
covered  by  strips  of  wool  hanging  from  the  waist;  one 
hand  resting  on  the  pommel  of  their  short  swords  while 
they  talked  with  enthusiasm  of  the  coming  Illyrian 
campaign,  without  thought  of  the  situation  of  their  allies 
in  Iberia. 

Actaeon  entered  the  sacred  precincts  of  the  Capitoline, 
surrounded  by  frowning  ramparts.  It  was  the  ancient 
mount  Tarpeius,  with  its  two  summits  united  by  an  ex- 
tensive flat.  The  higher  part  which  lay  toward  the 
north  was  occupied  by  the  Arx  or  citadel  of  Rome;  on 
the  south  was  the  temple  of  Jupiter  Capitolinus,  sur- 
rounded by  massive  columns. 

The  Greek  entered  the  citadel,  famous  for  its  resis- 
tance during  the  invasion  of  the  Gauls.  On  the  margin 
of  a  pool  before  the  temples  huddled  within  the  strong 
enclosure  he  saw  the  sacred  birds — the  geese  which  with 
their  cackling  in  the  silence  of  the  night  had  protected 
Rome  from  the  surprise  of  the  invaders.  Then  he  crossed 
the  depression  which  divides  the  hill  into  two  parts,  and 
approached  the  great  fane  of  Rome. 

A  stairway  of  a  hundred  steps  led  to  the  temple,  con- 


376  S6NNICA 

structed  in  the  time  of  the  last  Tarquin  in  honor  of  the 
three  divinities  of  Rome — Jupiter,  Juno,  and  Minerva. 
The  building  consisted  of  three  cellos  or  parallel  sanc- 
tuaries, with  three  doors  opening  beneath  the  same 
pediment.  The  one  in  the  centre  was  sacred  to  Jupiter, 
and  the  smaller  ones  on  either  side  to  the  two  goddesses. 
A  triple  row  of  columns  sustained  the  pediment,  which 
was  decorated  with  prancing  horses  coarsely  sculptured. 
Two  rows  of  columns  ran  down  the  sides  of  the  temple 
forming  a  portico,  in  the  shade  of  which  the  eldest 
Roman  citizens  strolled,  discussing  the  affairs  of  the 
city. 

The  temple  had  been  built  by  artists  called  from 
Etruria,  and  under  the  colonnade  were  statues  acquired 
by  the  expeditions  to  Sicily  and  as  a  result  of  the  many 
wars  carried  on  by  Rome.  This  rude  nation  was  incapa- 
ble of  producing  artists,  but  it  had  soldiers  to  supply 
it  with  art  by  means  of  war  and  loot. 

The  Athenian  entered  the  sanctuary  in  the  centre 
dedicated  to  Jupiter,  and  he  saw  the  image  of  the  god 
in  terra  cotta,  holding  a  golden  lance  in  his  right  hand. 
Before  him  continually  smoked  the  Altar  of  Sacrifices. 
On  leaving  the  temple  he  glanced  at  the  gnomon 
or  sundial,  which  at  that  height  marked  the  time  for  all 
Rome. 

It  was  now  the  hour  to  go  to  the  Senaculum,  the 
ancient  building  at  the  foot  of  the  Tarpeian  peak  between 
the  Capitolium  and  the  Forum,  which  many  years  later 
was  converted  into  the  temple  of  Concord.  On  the 
steps  which  gave  access  to  the  temple  Actseon  met  the 
two  legates  sent  by  Saguntum  before  the  siege  began; 
two  old  farmers  who  had  gone  away  from  home  for  the 


FABIUS  THE  DELAYER  277 

first  time,  and  who  seemed  to  be  dazed  by  their  long 
months  of  waiting  in  Rome,  with  their  audiences  which 
never  terminated,  and  with  their  interviews  and  result- 
less  supplications.  The  two  perturbed  Saguntines,  impo- 
tent before  a  city  which  never  responded  definitely  to 
their  words,  followed  like  automata  the  self-confident 
Greek  who  went  everywhere  as  if  he  were  in  his  own 
house,  and  who  spoke  many  languages  as  if  the  entire 
world  were  his  country. 

The  senators  began  to  arrive.  Some  came  from  their 
business  in  the  city  and  presented  themselves  garbed 
in  the  white  toga  with  purple  border,  followed  by  their 
clients  who  turned  their  gaze  in  all  directions  as  if 
to  attract  public  attention  to  their  majestic  protector. 
Others  came  from  the  country,  drawing  up  their  carts 
before  the  steps  of  the  Senaculum,  and,  handing  the 
reins  to  a  slave,  ascended  to  the  temple  with  their  togas 
flung  over  their  arms,  dressed  in  the  short  cloak  of 
coarse  wool  worn  by  farmers,  and  emitting  the  odors 
of  their  stables  and  crops.  They  were  mature  men  who 
displayed  in  the  firmness  of  their  strong  muscles  the 
activity  of  their  life  of  continued  struggle  with  the  soil 
and  with  enemies ;  old  men  with  long  beards  and  wizened 
faces,  tremulous  with  age,  who  still  revealed  in  their 
unflinching  eyes  reliance  on  their  departing  strength. 
The  crowd  from  the  Forum,  surging  toward  the  steps 
of  the  Senaculum,  watched  them  with  admiration  and 
respect.  They  were  the  fathers  of  the  Republic,  the 
heads  of  Rome. 

The  two  legates  from  Saguntum  walked  up  the  tem- 
ple steps.  Under  the  columns  which  sustained  the 
pediment  were  numberless  piles  of  loot  from  the  last 


278  S6NNICA 

wars,  deposited  by  the  conquerors  as  they  paraded 
through  the  Forum  before  the  multitude,  which  had 
hailed  them,  waving  branches  of  laurel.  Actaeon  saw 
shields  pierced  by  iron  swords,  rusted  by  blood;  war- 
chariots  with  broken  tongues,  the  gilded  wheels  bespat- 
tered with  the  mud  of  battles.  They  were  spoils  from  the 
war  with  the  Samnites.  Farther  on,  standing  along  tiie 
wall,  a  row  of  hideous  wooden  dwarfs,  dyed  red  and 
blue,  stripped  from  the  prows  of  Carthaginian  ships 
after  the  great  victory  at  the  Agates  Islands ;  iron  bars 
which  had  closed  the  gates  of  many  cities  conquered 
by  the  Romans ;  the  golden  standards  decorated  with 
fantastic  animals  which  led  the  troops  of  Pyrrhus;  the 
enormous  tusks  of  the  elephants  which  this  descendent  of 
Achilles  had  marched  against  the  legions  of  Rome; 
the  horned  or  eagle-winged  helmet  of  the  Ligurians ; 
the  darts  of  Alpine  tribes,  and,  beside  the  door,  as  a 
trophy  of  honor,  the  armor  of  the  glorious  Camillus, 
paraded  in  triumph  by  the  city  after  this  great  Roman 
had  driven  the  Gauls  from  the  Capitol.  Along  the  walls, 
as  a  strange  decoration,  hung  a  long  dark  tissue,  crisp  as 
parchment.  It  was  the  skin  of  the  great  serpent  which 
for  a  whole  day  held  back  the  army  of  Atilius  Regulus, 
when  on  his  expedition  to  Africa  he  was  marching 
to  the  conquest  of  Carthage.  The  horrible  monster, 
insensible  to  arrows,  devoured  many  soldiers  before 
it  succumbed  beneath  a  shower  of  stones,  and  Regulus 
sent  the  reptile's  skin  to  Rome  as  a  testimony  of  the 
adventure. 

The  envoys  from  Saguntum  had  a  tedious  wait  before 
a  centurion  ushered  them  into  the  Senaculum. 


FABIUS  THE  DELAYER  279 

The  Greek,  sweeping  his  glance  over  the  semicircle, 
was  perturbed  by  the  majesty  of  the  assemblage.  He 
recalled  the  entrance  of  the  Gauls  into  Rome;  the 
stupefaction  of  the  barbarians  in  the  presence  of  those 
Elders,  firm  in  their  marble  chairs,  wrapped  like  phan- 
toms in  their  snowy  garments  which  left  uncovered  only 
their  silvery  beards;  their  ivory  staves  held  with  a 
divine  majesty,  revealed  again  in  the  gleam  from  their 
steady  eyes.  None  but  barbarians  intoxicated  with 
blood-lust  would  dare  to  assault  men  of  such  patriar- 
chal dignity. 

They  numbered  more  than  two  hundred.  Between 
them  were  vacant  seats  of  senators  unable  to  attend,  and 
over  the  concentric  rows  of  marble  chairs  the  white 
togas  spread  out  like  newly  fallen  snow  upon  a  crust 
of  ice.  Behind  them  stood  a  row  of  columns  in  a  semi- 
circle, sustaining  the  cupola  through  which  filtered  a  cre- 
puscular light  which  seemed  to  favor  meditation  and 
concentration  of  the  mind.  A  low  stone  balustrade 
surrounded  the  semicircle,  and  beyond  it  were  grouped 
important  citizens  who  had  not  the  investiture  of  sena- 
tors. In  the  centre  the  barrier  was  broken  by  a  square 
pedestal  sustaining  the  bronze  she-wolf  with  the  twins 
hanging  to  her  dugs,  and  on  the  base  in  great  letters, 
the  device  of  supreme  authority  in  Rome:  "  S.P.Q.R." 
A  tripod  sustained  a  brazier  before  the  pedestal,  and 
over  the  embers  floated  a  blue  cloud  of  incense. 

The  three  legates  seated  themselves  in  marble  chairs 
near  the  image  of  the  wolf,  before  the  triple  row  of 
white  and  motionless  men. 

Some  rested  their  chins  in  their  hands  as  if  to  hear 
better. 


280  SoNNICA 

They  might  speak;  the  Senate  would  hear  them;  and 
Actaeon,  moved  by  the  supplicating  glances  of  his  two 
companions,  arose.  In  his  mind  impressions  did  not 
linger  long;  he  had  recovered  from  the  emotion  pro- 
duced at  first  by  the  majesty  of  the  assemblage. 

He  spoke  deliberately,  taking  care,  after  the  manner 
of  a  true  Greek,  to  avoid  lapses  of  style  in  expressing 
himself  in  that  rude  tongue,  endeavoring  to  give  to  his 
words  the  emotion  which  he  wished  to  inspire  in  the 
representatives  of  Rome.  He  described  the  desperate 
resistance  of  Saguntum,  and  her  confidence  in  the  sup- 
port of  the  Republic,  that  blind  faith  which  had  inspired 
her  people  to  hurl  themselves  outside  the  walls  and 
repulse  the  enemy  at  the  mere  announcement  that  the 
Roman  fleet  had  appeared  upon  the  horizon.  When 
he  left  the  city  it  still  had  supplies  for  subsistence  and 
courage  to  defend  itself.  But  much  time  had  elapsed 
since  then — nearly  two  whole  months.  The  ambassador 
had  been  compelled  to  make  his  way  amidst  adventures 
and  perils,  sometimes  by  sea,  taking  advantage  of  the 
routes  of  the  merchant  ships,  again  on  foot  along  the 
coasts,  and  at  this  moment  the  situation  of  the  city 
must  be  desperate.  Saguntum  would  fall  if  they  did 
not  go  to  her  succor,  and  what  a  responsibility  for 
Rome  if  she  abandoned  her  protege  after  the  latter  had 
drawn  Hannibal's  enmity  upon  her  for  wishing  to  be 
Roman !  How  could  other  nations  rely  on  the  friend- 
ship of  Rome  when  they  knew  the  sad  end  of  Saguntum ! 

The  Greek  ceased  speaking,  and  the  painful  silence 
which  fell  over  the  Senate  revealed  the  profound  im- 
pression his  words  had  made. 


FABIUS  THE  DELAYER  281 

Then  Lentulus,  an  aged  senator,  arose  to  speak.  The 
sharp  voice  of  the  old  man  penetrated  the  silence  as  he 
told  of  the  origin  of  Saguntum,  which  if  it  were  Gre- 
cian on  account  of  the  merchants  of  Zacynthus  having 
established  their  factories  there,  was  also  Italian  on 
account  of  the  Rutulians  from  Ardea  who  had  gone 
thither  in  remote  times  W  found  a  colony.  Moreover 
Saguntum  was  the  friend  of  Rome.  To  be  more  faith- 
ful to  her  she  had  beheaded  some  of  her  citizens  who 
had  worked  in  the  cause  of  Carthage.  What  audacity 
for  that  young  man,  a  son  of  Hamilcar,  to  ignore  the 
treaties  of  Rome  with  Hasdrubal,  and  to  dare  to  raise 
his  sword  against  a  city  friendly  to  the  Romans!  If 
Rome  looked  with  indifference  upon  this  offense  Hamil- 
car's  lion-cub  would  grow  in  temerity,  for  youth  knows 
no  bridle  when  it  sees  its  imprudence  crowned  by  suc- 
cess. Moreover,  the  great  city  could  not  tolerate  such 
daring.  Outside,  at  the  door  of  the  Senaculum  were 
the  glorious  trophies  of  war  as  a  demonstration  that 
he  who  revolted  against  Rome  should  fall  conquered 
at  her  feet.  They  must  be  inexorable  with  the  enemy 
and  faithful  to  the  ally;  they  must  carry  the  war  into 
Iberia  and  destroy  the  reckless  one  who  defied  Rome. 

All  the  choler  of  the  gloomy  city,  warlike  and  severe, 
spoke  through  the  mouth  of  the  aged  man,  who  extended 
his  rigid  arm  above  his  companions'  heads,  threatening 
the  invisible  enemy.  The  soldierly  vigor  of  the  veteran 
of  ancient  wars  against  the  Samnites  and  against  Pyr- 
rhus,  was  aroused  for  a  moment  in  the  weak  old  man,  and 
thrilled  his  muscles  and  caused  his  eyes  to  flash. 

Actaeon's  two  companions,  who  did  not  understand 
the  Latin  tongue,  nevertheless  divined  Lentulus'  words, 


282  S6NNICA 

and  they  were  filled  with  emotion  by  the  eulogy  of  the 
self-abnegation  of  their  city.  Tears  streamed  from  their 
eyes,  they  rent  the  dark  mantles  in  which  they  were  clad 
as  solemn  messengers,  and  throwing  themselves  to  the 
floor  to  express  the  vehemence  of  their  grief  after  the 
custom  of  the  ancients,  they  shouted,  sobbing: 

"  Save  us !  Save  us !" 

The  desperation  of  the  two  old  men,  and  the  dignified 
attitude  of  the  Greek,  who,  frowning  and  silent,  seemed 
the  personification  of  Saguntum  awaiting  the  fulfill- 
ment of  pledges,  moved  the  Senate  and  the  multitude 
that  surged  outside  the  balustrade  of  the  she-wolf. 
All  were  agitated  and  were  exchanging  words  of  indig- 
nation. Beneath  the  cupola  of  the  Senaculum  resounded 
a  disorderly  buzzing,  the  echo  of  a  thousand  mingled 
voices.  They  clamored  for  the  Senate  to  declare  instant 
war  against  Carthage,  to  call  out  the  legions,  to  make 
ready  the  ships,  to  embark  an  expedition  in  the  port  of 
Ostia,  and  to  hurl  Rome  against  the  camp  of  Hannibal. 

A  senator  called  for  silence  that  he  might  speak. 
It  was  Fabius,  one  of  the  most  famous  patricians  of 
Rome,  the  descendent  of  those  three  hundred  heroes  of 
that  famous  gens  destroyed  in  a  single  day  fighting 
for  Rome  on  the  banks  of  the  Cremera.  Prudence 
spoke  through  his  mouth;  his  counsels  were  ever  fol- 
lowed as  being  wisest;  on  this  account  the  Senate  re- 
covered its  calmness  as  soon  as  it  saw  that  he  had 
arisen  to  his  feet. 

With  reposeful  language,  after  lamenting  the  situa- 
tion of  the  allied  city,  he  said  that  it  was  not  known 
whether  it  were  Carthage  that  had  broken  into  hostil- 
ities against  Saguntum,  or  whether  Hannibal  had  done 


FABIUS  THE  DELAYER  283 

so  on  his  own  account.  A  war  in  Iberia  would  be  a  grave 
matter  for  Rome,  now  that  she  was  going  to  begin  a  near- 
er struggle  with  the  rebel  Demetrius  of  Pharos.  It  would 
be  advisable  to  send  an  embassy  to  Hannibal  in  his 
camp,  and  if  the  African  refused  to  raise  the  siege,  let 
it  go  to  Carthage  to  ask .  if  its  rulers  approved  the 
chieftain's  conduct,  and  to  demand  that  the  latter  be 
turned  over  to  Rome  in  punishment  for  his  audacity. 

This  solution  seemed  to  please  the  Senate.  Those 
who  a  few  moments  before  had  shown  themselves  war- 
like and  uncompromising  bowed  their  heads  as  if  ap- 
proving the  words  of  Fabius.  The  thought  of  the 
insurrection  in  Illyria  counseled  prudence  to  the  most 
violent.  They  remembered  the  enemy  who  was  rising 
almost  at  their  doors  across  the  Adriatic,  and  who, 
with  their  fleets  given  over  to  piracy,  might  attempt  an 
invasion  of  Roman  territory.  Egoism  caused  them  to 
look  upon  this  enterprise  as  more  important  than  any 
oath,  and  in  order  to  deceive  themselves  and  to  hide  their 
own  weakness,  they  exaggerated  the  importance  of  the 
embassy  to  Hannibal's  camp  declaring  that  the  African 
would  raise  the  siege  and  ask  pardon  of  Rome  as  soon  as 
he  saw  the  Senatorial  legates  arrive. 

Actaeon  received  this  change  on  the  part  of  the  as- 
semblage with  visible  signs  of  impatience. 

"  I  know  Hannibal  well,"  he  shouted.  "  He  will 
not  obey  you;  he  will  scoff  at  you!  If  you  do  not  send 
an  army  the  journey  of  your  legates  will  be  useless!" 

But  the  senators,  eager  to  conceal  the  weakness  to 
which  their  egoism  drove  them,  protested  loudly  against 
the  words  of  Acteeon.  Who  spoke  of  scoffing  at  the 
Republic  of  Rome  ?  Who  imagined  that  Hannibal  would 


S6NNICA 


scorn  the  envoys  of  the  Senate?  Let  the  strange* 
maintain  silence  —  he  who  was  not  even  a  son  of  the 
city  in  whose  name  he  spoke. 

Actaeon  bowed  his  head.  Then,  turning  to  his  aged 
companions,  who  tiid  not  understand  the  resolution 
of  the  Senate,  he  murmured  :  "  Our  city  is  lost  !  Rome 
fears  to  declare  war  against  Hannibal  and  delays  the 
clash  of  arms.  When  they  become  ready  to  help  us 
Saguntum  will  no  longer  exist!" 

The  three  Saguntine  legates  received  an  order  to 
retire.  The  senators  were  about  to  appoint  two  patri- 
cians who  should  go  as  envoys  of  Rome. 

As  they  left  the  Senaculum  the  eldest  of  the  senators 
addressed  Actaeon: 

"  Tell  your  companions  to  prepare  for  the  journey. 
To-morrow  at  sunset  you  will  embark  with  the  legates  of 
the  Senate  in  the  port  of  Ostia." 


CHAPTER  IX 

THE   HUNGRY   CITY 

THE  trireme  conveying  the  Roman  legates  had  been 
on  her  voyage  more  than  fifteen  days. 

She  had  sailed  up  the  coasts  of  the  Tyrrhenian  Sea; 
she  had  then  crossed  the  Sea  of  Liguria,  bound  by 
abrupt  coasts,  and  had  passed  before  Massilia,  the 
prosperous  Grecian  colony,  also  allied  to  Rome.  Then, 
audaciously  crossing  the  broad  gulf,  she  had  turned 
her  prow  toward  Emporion,  and  had  skirted  the  coasts 
of  Iberia. 

The  ambassadors  from  Rome  were  the  patricians 
Valerius  Flaccus,  one  of  those  who  desired  to  maintain 
the  peace  with  prudent  words,  and  Baebius  Tamphilus 
who  enjoyed  the  love  of  the  Roman  plebs  because  of 
his  sympathy  for  their  sufferings. 

Actaeon  displayed  impatience  to  reach  Saguntum.  He 
wished  to  confer  with  his  friends  and  avoid  the  useless 
sacrifice  of  the  city,  explaining  to  them  the  mood  of  Rome 
so  that  they  should  not  persist  in  a  useless  defense.  For 
seven  months  Saguntum  had  held  out  in  strenuous  resis- 
tance. Autumn  had  not  yet  commenced  when  Hanni- 
bal's army  had  appeared  before  the  city,  and  it  was  now 
near  the  end  of  winter. 

The  Greek  reflected  sadly  upon  the  fond  illusions  he 
had  cherished  while  making  his  adventurous  and  perilous 

285 


286  S6NNICA 

way  to  Rome.  He  had  hoped  that  his  presence  in  the 
great  city,  and  his  story  of  the  sufferings  of  the  faithful 
ally,  would  arouse  the  Romans,  and  that  the  legions 

would  shout  for  vengeance but  he  was  returning 

without  soldiers,  in  a  ship  with  ambassadors  feigning 
interest  in  Saguntum  but  not  deeply  moved  by  her  mis- 
fortunes  returning  without  other  support  than  high- 
sounding,  impotent  words,  and  a  bronze  wolf  on  the  end 
of  a  staff  proclaiming  the  dignity  of  the  embassy. 

What  of  the  enthusiastic  and  credulous  multitude 
fighting  on  the  walls,  filling  the  yawning  breach  with 
their  unflinching  breasts,  and  who  to  gather  fresh  cour- 
age only  needed  to  imagine  the  coming  of  the  Romans ! 

What  would  they  say?  Then,  with  a  sudden  turn 

of  thought,  what  of  Sonnica,  she  so  brave,  sending  him 
that  he  might  save  the  city !  How  could  she,  accustomed 
to  a  life  of  luxury  and  ease,  live  in  the  misery  and 
horror  of  that  siege,  which  had  endured  until  the  stores 
of  the  city  must  be  consumed,  and  the  energy  of  its 
defenders  exhausted! 

The  ship  left  the  mouth  of  the  Ebro,  and  struggling 
against  contrary  winds,  at  length,  one  morning,  sighted 
the  Acropolis  of  Saguntum.  From  the  tall  tower  of 
Hercules  shot  up  a  cloud  of  smoke  in  greeting!  They 
had  recognized  the  vessel  by  the  square  rigging  of  the 
Roman  men-of-war. 

The  sun  was  in  the  zenith  when  the  ship,  with  reefed 
sails,  and  driven  by  the  triple  bank  of  oars,  stood  into 
the  channel  which  gave  entrance  to  the  port  of  Sagun- 
tum. Within  the  harbor,  above  the  reeds  waving  in  the 
marshes,  rose  the  masts  of  Carthaginian  vessels  anchored 
in  the  triple  port. 


THE  HUNGRY  CITY  287 

The  crew  of  the  Roman  ship  beheld  great  troops  of 
horsemen  galloping  along  the  beach.  They  were  squad- 
rons of  Numidians  and  Mauritanians,  waving  their  lances 
and  uttering  war  cries  as  when  charging  in  battle. 

One  horseman,  with  bronze  armor  and  uncovered 
head,  had  called  to  them  to  heave  to.  Advancing  alone, 
he  urged  his  horse  into  the  channel,  approaching  the 
ship  until  the  waters  rose  to  the  animal's  belly. 

Actaeon  recognized  him. 

"  That  is  Hannibal,"  he  said  to  the  two  legates 
standing  beside  him  on  the  poop,  who  were  watching 
with  astonishment  the  bellicose  character  of  their  recep- 
tion before  they  had  even  cast  anchor  in  the  port  of 
Saguntum. 

Fresh  squadrons  continued  to  arrive,  as  if  the  news 
of  the  coming  ship  had  spread  alarm  through  the  camp, 
attracting  all  the  troops  to  the  port.  Behind  the  cavalry 
came  the  fierce  Celtiberians  at  full  speed,  the  Balearic 
slingers,  all  the  foot-soldiers,  of  diverse  races  who  figured 
in  the  besieging  army. 

Hannibal,  even  at  the  risk  of  drowning,  pressed  his 
horse  forward  into  the  waters  of  the  channel  to  make 
himself  heard  on  the  ship,  and  ordering  them  to  stop 
he  held  up  his  hand  so  imperiously  that  in  an  instant 
the  oars  dropped  motionless  along  the  hull. 

"Who  are  you?  What  do  you  want?"  he  asked  in 
Greek. 

Actaeon  interpreted  between  tne  Romans  and  the 
Carthaginian  chief. 

"  They  are  legates  from  Rome,  coining  to  see  you 
in  the  name  of  the  Republic." 

"  Who  are  you,  speaking  to  me  in  a  voice  that  I  seem 
to  know?" 


288  S6NNICA 

He  shaded  his  eyes  with  his  hand,  and  looked  keenly 
until  he  recognized  the  Greek. 

"  Is  it  you,  Actseon?  Always  you,  restless  Athenian! 
I  thought  you  were  within  the  city,  yet  you  have  managed 
to  slip  away  to  bring  these  men  to  me.  Well  and  good! 
Tell  them  it  is  too  late.  Why  waste  words?  A  chief- 
tain who  lays  siege  to  a  city  only  receives  ambassadors 
after  he  is  inside  the  walls." 

The  Greek  repeated  Hannibal's  words  to  the  Romans, 
translating  their  replies. 

"  Listen,  African !"  said  Actaeon  to  Hannibal.  "  The 
envoys  from  Rome  remind  you  of  the  friendship  which 
they  have  contracted  with  Saguntum.  In  the  name  of 
the  Senate  and  the  Roman  people  they  call  upon  you 
to  raise  the  siege  and  to  respect  the  city." 

"  Tell  them  that  Saguntum  has  offended  me,  and  that 
she  was  first  in  declaring  war  by  sacrificing  my  friends 
and  by  refusing  to  respect  my  allies,  the  Turdetani." 

"  That  is  not  true,  Hannibal." 

"  Greek,  repeat  what  I  say  to  the  Romans." 

"  The  legates  wish  to  land.  They  must  speak  to  you 
in  the  name  of  Rome." 

"  It  is  useless.  They  cannot  make  me  desist  from 
my  enterprise.  Moreover,  the  siege  has  lasted  long, 
the  troops  are  excited  and  a  camp  like  mine,  composed 
of  ferocious  peoples  from  many  countries,  who  are  only 
restrained  when  in  my  presence,  is  no  safe  place  for 
ambassadors  from  Rome.  We  had  a  battle  only  a  few 
hours  ago,  and  they  are  still  fuming  with  wrath." 

As  he  said  this  he  turned  toward  his  troops,  and,  as 
if  taking  the  movement  for  an  order,  or  perhaps  divin- 
ing in  the  eyes  of  their  chieftain  his  hidden  purpose,  they 


THE  HUNGRY  CITY  289 

advanced  into  the  water  as  if  to  attacs:  by  swimming 
against  the  ship.  Horsemen  threatened  with  lances 
still  dyed  in  the  blood  of  recent  battle;  they  raised  their 
shields,  on  which  the  more  savage  Africans  had  hung 
as  trophies  the  scalps  of  Saguntines  killed  in  the  last 
sally.  The  Balearians  showed  their  white  teeth  in 
stupid  grins,  and  taking  clay  balls  from  their  pouches, 
they  directed  sling-shots  against  the  Roman  vessel. 

"Do  you  see?"  shouted  Hannibal  with  satisfaction. 
"  It  is  impossible  to  receive  the  legates  in  my  camp. 
It  is  too  late  to  talk.  There  is  nothing  left  but  for 
Saguntum  to  give  herself  up  to  me  in  punishment  for 
her  crimes." 

The  legates,  scorning  the  projectiles  from  the  slings, 
leaned  over  the  side  of  the  ship,  thrusting  forward  their 
bodies  covered  by  their  togas,  with  an  arrogance  which 
seemed  to  defy  the  savage  warriors. 

Indignation  at  being  received  with  such  scorn  blanched 
their  cheeks. 

"  African !"  shouted  one  of  the  legates  in  Latin,  heed- 
less that  Hannibal  could  not  understand,  "  since  ycu 
will  not  receive  the  envoys  from  Rome  we  shall  go  on  to 
Carthage  to  demand  that  they  turn  your  person  over 
to  us  for  breaking  the  treaties  of  Hasdrubal.  Rome 
will  punish  you  when  you  become  our  prisoner!" 

"What  does  he  say?  What  does  he  say?"  growled 
Hannibal  enraged  at  the  incomprehensible  words  in 
which  he  surmised  a  threat. 

When  Actaeon  explained,  the  chieftain  burst  into  a 
loud  laugh  of  derision. 

"Go,  Romans!"  he  shouted.  "Go  thither!  The  rich 
hate  me  and  they  would  be  glad  to  grant  your  demands 


290  SONNICA 

and  turn  me  over  to  the  enemy;  but  the  people  love  me, 
and  there  is  no  man  in  Carthage  who  dares  to  come  into 
the  bosom  of  my  army  to  make  me  prisoner." 

Arrows  rained  around  the  ship;  clay  balls  rebounded 
from  her  sides,  and  the  Roman  pilot  gave  the  order  to 
recede.  The  oars  moved  and  the  vessel  slowly  began 
to  put  about,  and  dropped  down  the  channel. 

"  But  are  we  going  to  Carthage?"  asked  the  Greek. 

"  Yes,  in  Carthage  they  will  hear  us  better,"  replied 
one  of  the  legates.  "  After  what  has  taken  place,  either 
the  Senate  there  will  turn  Hannibal  over  to  us,  or  Rome 
will  declare  war  on  Carthage." 

"  You  may  go,  Romans,  but  my  duty  lies  here." 

Before  the  two  senators  and  the  legates  from  Sagun- 
tum,  who  had  witnessed  the  former  scene  with  astonish- 
ment, could  interfere,  the  Athenian  flung  one  leg  over 
the  rail  and  sprang  head  first  into  the  channel.  He 
swam  under  water  for  some  time,  then  came  up,  floating 
near  the  bank,  to  which  the  cavalry  and  foot-soldiers 
had  rushed  to  take  him  prisoner. 

Before  his  feet  touched  ground  Actaeon  was  surround- 
ed by  a  horde  of  slingers  who  rushed  into  the  water  up 
to  their  middles  to  take  possession  of  his  clothing  with- 
out having  to  divide  it  among  their  comrades.  In  an 
instant  they  tore  off  his  Celtiberian  sword,  the  pouoh 
hanging  from  his  belt,  and  a  gold  chain  'which  he  wore 
on  his  breast  in  memory  of  Sonnica.  They  were  about 
to  strip  him  of  his  traveling  tunic,  leaving  him  naked, 
and  he  had  begun  to  receive  blows  from  the  barbarons 
and  cruel  crowd,  when  Hannibal  rode  up  and  recognized 
him. 


THE  HUNGRY  CITY  291 

"  You  have  preferred  to  stay !  I  am  glad  of  that. 
After  having  wrought  me  so  much  damage  from  the 
walls  of  Saguntum  you  have  repented  and  you  have 
come  to  join  with  me.  I  ought  to  leave  you  in  the  hands 
of  these  barbarians  who  would  rend  you  to  pieces;  I 
ought  to  crucify  you  outside  my  camp  so  that  that  Greek 
woman  whom  you  love  could  shudder  at  you;  but  I  re- 
member the  promise  I  made  you,  and  I  shall  keep  it,  and 
welcome  you  as  a  friend." 

He  ordered  one  of  his  officials  to  cover  the  Greek's 
wet  garments  with  an  endromis,  a  military  cloak  of  long 
hair  with  a  hood,  worn  by  soldiers  over  their  armor  in 
winter.  Then  he  bade  him  mount  a  Numidian's  horse. 

They  took  up  their  march  toward  the  camp.  The 
troops  who  had  rushed  to  the  entrance  of  the  port  slowly 
returned,  while  the  ship  fast  dropped  the  land,  spread- 
ing her  glowing  sails.  On  the  Acropolis  the  smoke  had 
dissipated,  leaving  only  a  few  light  clouds  floating  in 
the  breeze.  From  afar  one  could  guess  the  disappoint- 
ment felt  in  the  city  by  the  unexpected  flight  of  the 
Roman  ship.  With  her  seemed  to  vanish  the  last  hope 
of  the  besieged.  Hannibal's  troops,  as  they  retired, 
commented  on  the  scene  at  the  entrance  to  the  port 
between  their  chief  and  the  envoys  from  Rome.  They 
did  not  understand  the  words  which  had  been  exchanged ; 
but  the  energetic  accent  of  the  Roman  as  he  spoke  to 
Hannibal  seemed  to  them  a  threat.  Some,  pretending 
that  they  had  understood  the  ambassador,  repeated  an 
imaginary  discourse  in  which  the  threat  was  made  in 
the  name  of  Rome  to  cut  the  throats  of  the  whole  army 
and  to  stretch  Hannibal  on  a  cross.  They  repeated 
these  threats,  each  swelling  them  with  inventions  of  his 


S6NNICA 


own,  and  when  the  troops  met  other  detachments  on  the 
Road  of  the  Serpent  or  in  different  parts  of  the  valley, 
all  declared  they  had  seen  the  chains  which  the  Roman 
legates  displayed  from  the  ship,  and  in  which  they  ex- 
pected to  take  their  chieftain  prisoner,  and  a  howl  of 
rage  arose  from  the  hosts  of  Hannibal. 

The  African  was  flattered  at  the  flood-tide  of  indig- 
nation surging  around  him.  The  soldiers,  barring  his 
way,  acclaimed  him  with  greater  enthusiasm;  he  heard 
voices  in  every  tongue  crying  death  to  Rome,  calling  upon 
the  chieftain  to  make  the  final  assault  upon  the  city, 
to  take  possession  of  it  before  the  ambassadors  should 
reach  Carthage  and  plot  the  downfall  of  the  youthful 
hero, 

"  Take  care  of  yourself,  Hannibal  !"  said  an  old 
Celtiberian  planting  himself  before  his  horse.  "  Your 
enemies  in  Carthage,  Hanno's  faction,  will  unite  with 
Rome  to  work  your  ruin." 

"  The  people  love  me/'  said  the  chieftain,  arrogantly. 
"  Before  the  Carthaginian  Senate  hears  the  Romans, 
Saguntum  will  be  ours,  and  the  Carthaginians  will 
acclaim  our  triumph." 

With  saddened  heart  Actaeon  beheld  the  desolation  of 
the  fields  which  used  to  be  so  j  oyous  and  so  fertile.  There 
were  no  other  ships  in  the  port  but  men-of-war  from 
New  Carthage.  The  seamen  slept  in  the  fane  of  Aphro- 
dite after  having  rifled  the  temple  of  its  valuables.  The 
warehouses  had  been  pillaged  and  destroyed;  the 
wharves  covered  with  filth;  in  the  fields  not  a  vestige 
of  the  ancient  villas  remained.  The  ferocity  of  the  bar- 
barian tribes  from  the  interior,  their  hatred  for  tne 
Oreeks  of  the  coast,  had  incited  them  to  even  tear  up 


THE  HUNGRY  CITY  293 

the  multicolor  pavements  and  to  scatter  the  fragments. 
The  whole  valley  was  an  immense,  desolated  plain. 
Not  a  tree  was  standing.  To  combat  the  cold  of  winter 
they  had  felled  the  groves  of  fig  trees,  the  broad  plan- 
tations of  olives,  the  stocks  of  the  grapevines  of  the 
vineyards,  destroying  even  the  houses  to  warm  them- 
selves with  the  rafters  from  the  roofs.  Nothing  re- 
mained standing  but  ruined  walls  and  low  shrubbery. 
A  fungoid  vegetation  which  grew  rapidly,  fertilized  by 
bodies  of  men  and  animals,  extended  over  the  valley, 
obliterating  the  ancient  roads,  creeping  up  the  ruins, 
and  choking  the  beds  of  the  streams  which,  their  irri- 
gating ditches  broken,  scattered  their  waters  until  the* 
low  fields  were  converted  into  ponds. 

It  was  the  devastating  work  of  a  continually  swelling 
army  composed  of  a  hundred  and  eighty  thousand  men 
and  of  many  thousands  of  horses.  In  a  short  time  they 
had  devoured  the  Sagunfcine  'domain.  The  soldiers 
after  destroying  all  that  was  not  of  immediate  use, 
extended  their  rapacity  to  surrounding  zones,  constantly 
broadening  their  radius  of  destruction  as  the  siege  was 
prolonged. 

Supplies  now  came  from  a  distance  of  many  days' 
journey;  sent  by  remote  tribes  in  the  hope  of  a  reward 
of  booty  which  Hannibal  knew  how  to  instill  into  their 
minds,  telling  them  of  the  riches  of  Saguntum.  The 
elephants  had  been  sent  to  New  Carthage  some  months 
before,  as  they  were  useless  in  the  siege  and  difficult 
to  maintain  in  this  devastated  region. 

Over  the  domain  flew  crows  in  undulating  black 
clouds.  From  the  thicket  rose  the  stench  of  rotting 
horses  and  mules.  By  the  roadsides,  their  members 


294  S6NNICA 

pinned  to  the  ground  by  rocks,  lay  the  bodies  of  barbar- 
ians put  to  death  because  of  hopeless  wounds,  and 
whose  bodies  their  compatriots,  according  to  the  cus- 
toms of  their  race,  left  abandoned  to  the  birds  of  prey. 
The  immense  agglomeration  had  vitiated  the  atmos- 
phere of  the  valley.  They  lived  in  the  open,  and  yet, 
the  filth  of  the  multitude,  and  the  vapors  of  death, 
seemed  disseminated  between  the  mountains  and  the 
sea  as  a  heavy  atmosphere  replete  with  sickness  and 
death. 

Actason,  coming  from  a  distance,  was  the  more  sensi- 
tive to  this  stench  of  the  camp,  and  he  thought  of  the 
beleaguered  people  with  sadness.  Looking  toward  the 
city  he  guessed  the  horrors  hidden  behind  those  reddish 
walls  after  a  resistance  of  seven  months. 

They  approached  the  camp.  The  Greek  saw  that  this 
concentration  of  military  forces  had  assumed  the  aspect 
of  a  permanent  city.  Few  tents  of  canvas  or  of  skins 
were  left.  The  winter,  which  now  was  drawing  to  a 
close,  had  compelled  the  besiegers  to  construct  stone 
huts  with  thatched  roofs,  and  wooden  houses  which 
looked  like  towers  and  served  as  supports  to  the  earth- 
works thrown  up  roundabout  the  camp. 

Hannibal,  as  if  reading  Actaeon's  thought,  smiled 
savagely  while  his  eyes  swept  the  work  of  destruction 
wrought  by  his  army  outside  the  city. 

"You  find  all  this  greatly  changed,  eh,  Actaeon?" 

"  I  see  that  your  troops  have  not  been  idle  while  you 
were  off  punishing  the  rebels  in  Celtiberia." 

"  Maherbal,  my  chief  of  cavalry,  is  an  excellent  aide. 
When  I  returned  he  showed  me  two  of  the  walls  of  Sa- 


THE  HUNGRY  CITY  295 

guntum  destroyed,  and  a  part  of  the  city  in  our  power. 
Do  you  see  that  citadel  near  the  Acropolis,  inside  the 
walled  district?  Well,  that  is  ours.  The  catapults, 
which  you  can  see  from  here,  shoot  into  Saguntum, 
which  has  become  reduced  to  half  its  former  size — 
and  they  still  dream  of  defending  themselves !  They 
still  hope  for  auxiliaries  from  Rome!  Stubborn  brutes! 
They  have  constructed  a  line  of  walls  for  the  third 
time,  and  thus  they  have  gone  on  losing  ground  and 
persisting  in  the  defense  until  nothing  is  left  to  them 
but  the  Forum,  where  I  shall  knife  every  man,  Woman, 
and  child  whom  I  find  alive — O,  proud  and  indomitable 
city !  I  will  make  you  my  slave !" 

The  African  turned  to  his  old-time  companion  and 
changed  the  conversation. 

"  Your  eyes  are  opened  at  last,  and  you  have  come 
to  me.  Are  you  going  to  follow  me  with  enthusi- 
asm? Will  you  join  me  in  that  series  of  enterprises 
of  which  I  spoke  to  you  one  day  at  sunrise  here  on  this 
very  road?  Perhaps  you  will  become  a  king  because  of 
having  followed  Hannibal,  as  did  Ptolemy  following 
Alexander.  Are  you  resolved?" 

Actaeon  hesitated  a  moment  before  replying,  and  Han- 
nibal read  indecision  in  his  eyes — the  desire  to  deceive. 

"  Do  not  lie,  Greek;  lies  are  for  enemies,  or  for  pre- 
serving life.  I  am  your  friend,  and  I  have  promised 
to  respect  your  safety.  Can  it  be  that  you  do  not  mean 
to  follow  me?" 

"Well,  of  a  truth,  I  do  not,"  said  the  Greek  with 
resolution.  "  I  wish  to  return  to  the  city,  and  if  you 
truly  have  affection  for  the  companion  of  your  youth, 
let  me  go." 


296  S6NNICA 

"  But  you  will  perish  inside  that  city !  Do  not  expect 
mercy  if  we  force  our  entrance  through  the  breach!" 

•"  I  shall  die/'  said  the  Athenian  simply,  "  but  there, 
inside  those  walls,  are  men  who  received  me  as  a  compa- 
triot when  I  was  wandering  hungry  over  the  world ;  there 
is  a  woman  who  took  me  in  when  I  was  poor,  and  gave 
me  love  and  riches.  They  sent  me  to  Rome  that  I 
might  bring  them  a  word  of  hope,  and  I  must  return, 
even  though  it  be  only  to  give  them  sorrow  and  pain. 
What  does  it  matter  if  you  set  me  free?  To-morrow 
perhaps  you  can  kill  me.  I  shall  be  one  more  mouth  to 
feed,  and  surely  hunger  must  reign  in  Saguntum.  Per- 
haps when  I  tell  them  the  truth,  when  they  see  me 
return  without  assistance,  their  courage  may  weaken 
and  they  may  give  up  the  town  to  you.  Let  me  pass 
through  the  lines,  Hannibal;  with  this,  it  may  be  that 
without  desiring  to  do  so,  I  shall  forward  your  plans." 

Hannibal   looked   at   him   in   surprise. 

"  Madman !  I  never  believed  an  Athenian  capable  of 
such  a  sacrifice.  You  are  such  a  light-hearted  people, 
so  given  to  perfidy,  so  false  when  you  wish  to  satisfy 
your  egoism!  You  are  the  first  Greek  I  ever  found 
faithful  to  the  city  which  adopted  him.  Carthage  had 
worse  luck  with  the  mercenaries  from  your  country ! 
It  is  impossible  to  make  anything  of  you;  you  are  only 
half  a  man!  Love  overmasters  you;  you  are  not  satis- 
fied as  I  am  with  the  woman  who  wanders  around  the 
camp,  or  whom  one  takes  when  a  city  is  assaulted  and 
afterwards  turns  over  to  the  soldiers.  You  bind  your- 
self to  a  woman,  you  become  her  slave,  and  you  seek  an 
inglorious  death  in  a  dark  corner  of  the  world,  like  a 
mercenary  in  the  service  of  a  handful  of  merchants, 


THE  HUNGRY  CITY  297 

merely  for  the  sake  of  seeing  her  again.  Go,  madman, 
go!  I  give  you  your  liberty — I  wish  to  hear  no  more 
about  you.  I  was  ready  to  make  you  a  hero  and  you  an- 
swer me  like  a  slave.  Go  in  to  Saguntum,  but  know  that 
the  protection  of  Hannibal  abandons  you  from  this 
moment.  If  you  fall  into  my  hands  inside  the  city  you 
will  be  my  prisoner,  never  my  friend !" 

Digging  his  heels  into  his  horse's  ribs,  Hannibal 
dashed  into  his  camp,  contemptuously  turning  his  back 
upon  the  Greek.  In  a  moment  a  young  Carthaginian 
approached,  who,  without  a  word,  nor  even  a  glance  at 
him,  grasped  his  bridle-reins  and  proceeded  toward 
Saguntum. 

As  they  gained  the  outposts  of  the  besieging  army  the 
Carthaginian  pronounced  a  word  and  Actseon  passed  on 
amid  the  hostile  gaze  of  the  soldiers  who  had  heard  of 
the  scene  at  the  port,  and  were  clamoring  with  rage, 
thinking  of  the  chains  which  the  legates  from  Rome  had 
the  insolence  to  show  to  their  chief.  That  Greek 
who  was  about  to  enter  the  besieged  city  must  have  been 
a  companion  of  the  legates,  and  many  placed  an  arrow  in 
the  bow  to  shoot  at  him,  but  were  restrained  by  a  cold 
and  haughty  glance  from  the  young  Carthaginian  who 
spoke  in  the  name  of  Hannibal. 

They  arrived  at  the  ruins  of  the  first  walled  quarter. 
The  van  of  the  besieging  army  was  within  the  shelter 
of  the  walls.  The  Greek  dismounted,  and  breaking  a 
thorny  branch  from  a  bush  he  walked  on,  holding  it 
aloft  as  a  signal  of  peace. 

He  stood  before  the  wall  which  had  been  built  under 
his  direction  one  night  to  hold  back  the  invader.  Upon 
it  he  saw  the  helmets  of  only  a  few  defenders.  The 


298  S6NNICA 

besieger  was  directing  his  attacks  against  the  upper  part. 
That  side  of  the  city  where  the  early  battles  had  taken 
place  was  almost  abandoned.  The  guardians  on  the 
wall  greeted  Actaeon  with  loud  shouts  of  surprise  and 
joy,  and  they  lowered  a  rope  of  esparto  to  help  him 
climb  up  by  means  of  the  rough  places  on  the  wall, 
until  he  could  enter  through  a  crenel  near  the  top.  All 
surrounded  the  Greek  eagerly.  It  seemed  as  if  he  were 
in  the  presence  of  spectres.  Their  bodies  appeared 
ready  to  slip  out  of  their  ample  armor;  their  faces,  sad, 
yellow,  parchment-like,  were  hidden  beneath  the  visors 
of  their  helmets;  their  fleshless,  wrinkled  hands  could 
barely  sustain  their  weapons,  and  a  strange,  golden 
effulgence  glowed  in  their  eyes. 

Acteeon  parried  their  flood  of  questions  with  kind 
words  of  encouragement.  He  would  speak  opportunely; 
he  must  first  render  an  account  of  his  mission  to  the 
Elders  of  the  Senate.  They  must  be  calm;  before  night 
they  should  know  all.  Filled  with  commiseration  in  the 
presence  of  these  heroes,  he  lied  mercifully,  declaring 
that  Rome  would  not  forget  Saguntum,  and  that  he  had 
come  in  advance  of  the  legions  sent  by  the  allies. 

From  the  houses  nearby,  from  the  streets  close  to  the 
wall,  issued  men  and  women  drawn  by  news  of  the  ar- 
rival of  the  Greek.  They  surrounded  him,  they  ques- 
tioned him;  all  wished  to  be  first  to  receive  the  news 
to  scatter  it  through  the  city.  Defending  himself 
from  them,  Actaeon  gazed  with  horror  at  their  lean, 
yellow  faces,  their  earthy  skin  outlining  the  prominent 
sutures  of  their  skulls;  their  sunken  eyes  in  their  black 
orbits  shining  with  an  unearthly  light,  like  fading  stars 
reflected  in  the  depths  of  a  well,  and  their  emaciated 


THE  HUNGRY  CITY  299 

arms,  which  creaked  like  canes  as  they  moved  them 
with  nervous  emotion. 

He  started  onward,  escorted  by  the  multitude,  pre- 
ceded by  boys  absolutely  nude,  horrible  to  look  at, 
with  skins  ready  to  break  from  the  pressure  of  their 
ribs  outlined  one  above  the  other,  with  enormously  large 
heads  above  thdir  fleshless  necks.  They  staggered 
painfully,  as  if  their  tottering,  thread-like  limbs  could 
not  bear  the  weight  of  their  bodies;  some,  to  lessen  their 
suffering,  dragged  themselves  along  the  ground,  lacking 
the  strength  to  stand. 

Actseon  beheld  a  deserted  corpse  lying  in  a  corner, 
the  face  covered  with  strange  flies  which  glinted  in  the 
sunshine  with  metallic  reflections.  Farther  on  at  a 
cross  street,  some  women  were  trying  to  raise  to  his  feet 
a  naked  youth  beside  whom  lay  his  abandoned  bow.  The 
Greek  noted  with  horror  his  sunken,  inward-curving 
abdomen,  a  palpitating  whirlpool  of  skin  between  the 
protruding  hip  bones  which  threatened  to  burst  from  the 
body.  It  was  a  mummy  still  showing  a  flickering  spark 
of  life  in  the  eyes,  opening  and  shutting  its  parched 
and  blackened  lips  as  if  feeding  on  the  unnourishing 
air. 

He  continued  on  his  way  down  the  lengthy  streets, 
but  no  more  people  joined  the  group.  The  doors  of 
many  houses  remained  closed,  despite  the  clamor  of  the 
crowd,  and  Actaeon  contrasted  this  solitude  with  the 
great  multitude  of  people  during  the  early  days  of  the 
siege.  Dead  dogs  lying  in  the  gullies,  as  emaciated  as 
the  people  themselves,  polluted  the  atmosphere.  At 
street  crossings  lay  skeletons  of  hcrses  and  mules,  clean 
and  white,  holding  not  even  a  scrap  of  flesh  to  satisfy 


300  S6NNICA 

the  repugnant  insects  buzzing  in  the  atmosphere  of 
the  doomed  city. 

With  his  gift  of  keen  observation,  the  Greek's  at- 
tention was  fixed  by  the  warriors'  weapons.  He  saw 
only  cuirasses  of  metal;  those  made  of  leather  had  dis- 
appeared. The  shields  displayed  their  texture  of  osier 
or  bull-tendon,  destitute  of  their  coverings  of  hide.  In 
one  corner  he  saw  two  old  men  fighting  over  a  black 
and  stringy  morsel;  it  was  a  bit  of  crow  boiled  in  water. 
Many  two-storied  houses  had  been  demolished  to  obtain 
stones  for  use  in  the  new  wall  which  barred  the  advance 
of  the  enemy. 

Desolating  hunger  had  swept  everything  with  cruel 
touch.  Even  the  most  fetid  and  repugnant  matter  had 
been  turned  to  account.  It  was  as  if  the  besiegers  had 
already  broken  into  the  city  and  had  carried  off  every- 
thing of  worth,  leaving  nothing  but  the  buildings  behind 
as  silent  witnesses  to  their  rapine.  Hunger  and  death 
stalked  hand  in  hand  beside  the  desperate  Saguntines. 

On  approaching  the  Forum  a  woman  pushed  her  way 
through  the  people  toward  the  Greek  and  flung  her  arms 
around  his  neck. 

"  Actaeon,  my  love !"  cried  Sonnica. 

The  privations  of  the  siege  had  left  deep  marks  upon 
her.  She  did  not  present  the  appearance  of  extreme 
emaciation  as  did  most,  but  she  was  thin  and  pale,  her 
nose  sharpened,  her  cheeks  transmitting  an  interior 
light,  the  arms  whch  clung  to  him  thin  and  hot  with 
fever.  A  blue  circle  surrounded  her  eyes,  and  her  rich 
tunic  hung  loose  in  empty  folds;  her  body,  in  growing 
thinner,  seemed  to  have  gained  in  height. 

"  Actaeon my  love !"  she  cried  again,  "  I  had  lost 


THE  HUNGRY  CITY  SOI 

hope  of  ever  seeing  you !  Bless  you,  bless  you  for  com- 
ing back!" 

She  walked  beside  him,  one  of  her  arms  around  his 
neck.  The  multitude  looked  upon  Sonnica  with  venera- 
tion; she  had  sacrificed  herself  for  the  poor,  sharing 
with  them  each  day  the  shrinking  supplies  of  her  store- 
houses. 

Actaeon  recognized  Euphobias  the  philosopher  in  the 
crowd,  his  garments  more  ragged  than  ever,  almost 
naked,  but  with  an  appearance  of  relative  vigor  which 
contrasted  strangely  with  the  starving  appearance  of  the 
majority.  Lachares  and  the  elegant  young  friends  of 
Sonnica  bowed  to  him  from  a  distance  with  a  distraught 
expression.  They  had  the  look  of  starving  men,  but 
they  concealed  their  pallor  beneath  rouge  and  other  cos- 
metics, and  they  wore  their  richest  vestments  as  if  to 
console  themselves  for  their  privations  with  the  pomp  of 
useless  luxury.  The  young  slave  boys  who  accompanied 
them  moved  their  emaciated  limbs,  covered  by  gold-em- 
broidered garments,  and  gazing  at  their  pendants  of 
pearls,  they  yawned  painfully.  The  crowd  halted  in 
the  Forum.  The  Elders  had  gathered  in  the  temple  near 
the  quadrangle.  Above,  on  the  Acropolis,  the  Carthagin- 
ians who  occupied  a  part  of  the  hill,  kept  up  a  continual 
bombardment,  and  great  stones  from  the  catapults  fell 
constantly.  Some  of  these  reached  the  Forum,  and  the 
roofs  of  many  houses  and  walls  were  pierced  and 
shattered  by  the  enormous  projectiles. 

Actaeon  entered  the  temple  alone.  The  number  of 
Ancients  had  diminished.  Some  had  died,  victims  of 
hunger  and  pestilence;  others,  with  juvenile  ardor, 
had  rushed  forth  to  defend  the  walls,  and  there  en- 


302  S6NNICA 

countered  death.  The  prudent  Alcon  seemed  to  enjoy 
great  ascendancy,  and  he  figured  at  the  head  of  the 
assembly.  Events  had  justified  the  prudence  which 
had  caused  him  in  other  days  to  declare  against  the  war- 
like enterprises  of  the  city  and  their  fondness  for  al- 
liances. 

"  Speak,  Actaeon,"  said  Alcon.  "  Tell  us  the  truth, 
the  whole  truth!  After  the  misfortunes  the  gods  have 
already  sent  us,  we  can  bear  even  greater." 

The  Greek  looked  at  the  men,  wrapped  in  their  flow- 
ing mantles,  holding  their  tall  staves  of  authority,  await- 
ing his  words  with  an  anxiety  which  they  made  an  ef- 
fort to  conceal  behind  majestic  calmness. 

He  related  his  audience  by  the  Roman  Senate;  he 
told  of  the  caution  which  had  impelled  it  to  favor  con- 
ciliatory measures ;  of  the  arrival  of  the  legates  off  Sagun- 
tum;  of  their  extraordinary  reception  by  Hannibal, 
and  of  the  departure  of  the  ambassadors  for  Carthage 
to  demand  the  punishment  of  the  chieftain  and  desis- 
tance  from  the  siege  of  Saguntum. 

As  the  sad  tale  proceeded  the  calmness  of  the  Elders 
gradually  dissipated.  Some,  more  violent,  arose  to  their 
feet  and  rent  their  garments,  crying  aloud  with  grief; 
others,  in  their  excitement,  beat  their  foreheads  with 
clenched  fists,  raging  with  fury  on  hearing  that  Rome 
had  not  sent  her  legions;  and  the  eldest  among  them, 
without  sacrificing  their  dignity,  wept  unashamed,  al- 
lowing their  tears  to  stream  down  their  fleshless  cheeks 
into  their  snowy  beards. 

"  They  have  forsaken  us !" 

'*  It  will  be  too  late  when  help  arrives !" 


303 


"  Saguntum  will  perish  before  the  Romans  can  reach 
Carthage !" 

The  assemblage  remained  long  in  a  state  of  despera- 
tion. Some,  motionless  in  their  seats  from  weakness, 
implored  the  gods  to  let  them  die  ere  they  should  be- 
hold the  downfall  of  their  people. 

It  seemed  as  if  the  hordes  of  Hannibal  were  already 
clamoring  at  the  temple  doors. 

"  Restrain  yourselves,  Elders !"  admonished  Alcon. 
"  Remember  that  the  citizens  of  Saguntum  stand  waiting 
outside  these  walls.  If  they  suspect  your  despair, 
discouragement  will  spread  abroad,  and  this  very  night 
we  will  become  the  slaves  of  Hannibal!" 

Slowly  the  Elders  recovered  their  composure,  and 
silence  reigned.  All  awaited  the  counsel  of  Alcon  the 
Prudent.  He  spoke. 

"  You  do  not  entertain  the  thought  of  immediate 
surrender  of  the  city,  do  you?" 

A  roar  of  indignation  from  the  Senate  answered  him. 

"  Never,  never !" 

"  Then,  in  order  to  keep  hearts  beating  with  hope, 
to  prolong  the  defense  a  few  more  days,  you  must  lie; 
you  must  inspire  in  the  Saguntines  a  deceptive  confi- 
dence. Provisions  are  exhausted;  those  who  man  the 
walls,  weapons  in  hand,  have  eaten  the  flesh  of  the  last 
horses  that  remained  in  the  city.  The  plebs  are  per- 
ishing of  hunger.  Every  night  hundreds  of  corpses  are 
gathered  and  burned  on  the  Acropolis  for  fear  of  their 
being  devoured  by  wandering  dogs  pressed  by  hunger, 
which  have  turned  into  veritable  wild  beasts  that  attack 
even  the  living.  There  is  a  complaint  that  some  of  the 
foreigners  sheltered  in  the  city,  in  company  with  slaves 


304  S6NNICA 

and  mercenaries,  lie  in  wait  by  night  near  the  walls  to 
eat  whatever  bodies  they  find.  The  cisterns  of  the  city 
are  almost  dry;  there  is  but  little  water  left,  and  that  is 
thick  with  mud ;  and  yet  no  one  in  Saguntum  talks  of  sur- 
render, and  the  defense  must  be  continued.  We  all 
know  what  awaits  us  if  we  fall  into  the  hands  of  Han- 
nibal." 

"  I  have  talked  with  him,"  said  Actaeon,  "  and  he  is 
inexorable.  If  he  enters  Saguntum  every  man  of  us 
will  become  his  slave!" 

The  assembly  stirred  again  with  indignation. 

"We  will  die  first!"  shouted  the  Elders. 

Hastily  they  agreed  upon  what  must  be  said  to  the 
people.  They  swore  by  the  gods  to  conceal  the  truth. 
They  would  prolong  the  sacrifice  in  the  hope  that  aid 
from  Rome  might  come  in  time.  Composing  their  coun- 
tenances so  that  none  should  divine  their  despair,  the 
Elders  walked  out  of  the  temple.  Swiftly  the  news 
flashed  through  the  city.  The  legates  had  proceeded 
to  Carthage  to  waste  no  time  in  the  camp;  there  they 
would  demand  the  punishment  of  Hannibal.  The  legions 
which  Rome  was  sending  to  the  support  of  the  Sagun- 
tines  would  arrive  at  any  moment. 

The  crowd  received  this  specious  fabrication  with 
cold  insensibility.  The  sufferings  of  the  siege  had  dead- 
ened their  feelings.  Besides,  they  had  been  fired  so  many 
times  with  hope  of  the  coming  of  the  Romans  that  they 
doubted  and  would  not  believe  until  they  saw  the  fleet 
itself. 

Actaeon  mingled  with  the  starving  crowd  searching 
for  Sonnica,  He  found  her  surrounded  by  Lacharea 


THE  HUNGRY  CITY  305 

and  the  young  gallants.  Near  them  stood  Euphobias, 
smiling  at  Sonnica,  but  not  venturing  to  approach. 

"  The  gods  have  protected  you  on  your  journey, 
Actaeon,"  said  the  parasite.  "  You  look  better  than  we 
who  have  remained  in  the  city.  One  can  plainly  see 
that  you  have  fed." 

"  But  you,  philosopher/'  said  the  Greek,  "are  not  so 
lean  and  emaciated  as  the  others.  Who  maintains  you?" 

"  My  poverty.  I  was  so  accustomed  to  hunger  in  times 
of  plenty  that  now  I  scarcely  notice  the  famine.  Ob- 
serve the  advantages  of  being  a  philosopher  and  a  beg- 
gar !" 

"  Trust  not  the  words  of  that  monster,"  said  Lachares 
with  repugnance.  "  He  is  as  beastly  as  a  Celtiberian. 
He  eats  daily;  but  he  should  be  crucified  in  the  middle 
of  the  Forum  as  a  warning.  He  has  been  seen  at  night 
wandering  near  the  walls  with  a  band  of  slaves  in  search 
of  dying  men." 

The  Greek  turned  from  the  parasite  with  disgust. 

"  Do  not  believe  it,  Actaeon,"  said  Euphobias.  "  Now 
they  envy  me  my  beggar's  parsimony,  as  in  other  times 
they  jeered  at  it.  Hunger  is  my  ancient  companion, 
and  she  respects  me." 

All  drew  away  from  the  parasite,  and  Actaeon  followed 
Sonnica  to  her  house.  The  beautiful  Greek  woman 
was  living  almost  alone.  Many  of  her  servants  had 
been  killed  on  the  walls;  others  had  perished  in  the 
streets,  victims  of  pestilence.  Some  slaves,  unable  to 
resist  the  torments  of  hunger,  had  run  away  to  the 
besieging  camp.  Two  aged  slave-women  lay  groaning 
in  a  corner,  amidst  stacks  of  luxurious  furniture  and 
chests  filled  with  riches.  The  great  warehouses  in  the 


306  S6NNICA 

lower  story  were  empty.  A  gang  of  boys  had  taken 
possession,  and  passed  the  time  watching  cat-like  in 
hopes  of  some  stray  rat  issuing  from  a  corner,  that 
they  might  fall  upon  it  as  an  animal  of  inestimable 
value. 

"  Tell  me  of  Rhanto !"  the  Greek  said  to  his  beloved. 

"  Poor  child !  I  see  her  only  occasionally.  She  will 
not  stay  here;  I  have  her  brought  to  me  so  that  I  can 
watch  over  her,  but  at  the  first  opportunity  she  slips 
away.  Grief  over  Erotion's  death  has  caused  her  to 
lose  her  reason.  Day  and  night  she  wanders  along  the 
walls.  She  goes  where  the  battle  rages  fiercest,  and 
she  passes  among  flying  missiles  as  if  she  does  not  see 
them.  By  night  I  hear  from  afar  the  strange  dirges 
which  she  chants  to  her  Erotion;  sometimes  she  appears 
crowned  with  a  wreath  of  those  flowers  which  grow 
on  the  walls,  and  she  asks  for  the  son  of  Mopsus,  as  if 
he  were  hidden  among  the  defenders.  The  people  be- 
lieve that  she  is  in  communication  with  the  gods,  and 
they  look  upon  her  with  awe  and  ask  her  what  will  be 
the  fate  of  Saguntum." 

The  two  spent  the  night  amidst  the  piled  up  riches 
in  the  warehouse  wrapped  in  costly  tapestries,  insensible 
to  their  surroundings,  as  if  they  were  still  in  the  rich 
villa  on  the  domain,  at  the  end  of  one  of  those  ban- 
quets which  had  so  scandalized  many  of  the  Sa"un- 
tines. 

Days  passed.  The  city  was  growing  weaker,  but  the 
people  still  firm  in  their  resolution,  continued  the  de- 
fense, with  stomachs  faint  from  starvation.  The  be- 
siegers made  no  violent  assaults.  Hannibal  guessed  the 
condition  of  the  city,  and,  desirous  of  avoiding  further 


THE  HUNGRY  CITY  307 

shedding  of  the  blood  of  his  troops,  he  allowed  time  to 
pass,  maintaining  only  a  rigid  blockade,  waiting  for 
hunger  and  pestilence  to  complete  his  triumph. 

The  mortality  in  the  streets  increased.  There  was  no 
longer  any  one  left  to  gather  up  the  dead;  the  crema- 
tory fire  on  the  Acropolis  had  gone  out.  Corpses,  aban- 
doned in  the  doorways  of  their  homes,  were  covered  with 
loathsome  insects,  and  birds  of  rapine  audaciously  came 
down  by  night  into  the  heart  of  the  city  disputing  the 
prey  of  vagabond  dogs  which  prowled  the  streets  with 
lolling  tongues  and  flaming  eyes. 

Vile  smelling  people  of  savage  aspect,  possessed  by 
the  delirium  of  starvation,  dragged  themselves  cautious- 
ly through  the  streets  armed  with  clubs,  stones,  and 
missiles.  They  went  foraging  as  soon  as  night  fell. 
Euphobias  guided  them,  giving  counsel  with  majestic 
emphasis,  as  if  he  were  a  great  captain  commanding  his 
army.  When  they  managed  to  kill  a  crow  or  a  savage 
dog  they  carried  it  to  the  Forum  and  roasted  it  over  a 
bonfire,  quarreling  violently  over  the  noisome  morsels, 
while  the  rich  citizens  stood  aloof,  faint  with  hunger 
but  nauseated  by  such  horrors. 

Spring  had  set  in.  It  was  a  gloomy  springtime, 
revealed  to  the  besiegers  by  little  flowers  growing  up 
among  the  weeds  in  the  crevices  of  the  towers  and  on 
the  roofs  of  the  houses.  Winter  was  over,  and  yet 
it  was  cold  in  Saguntum,  with  a  tomb-like  chill  which 
the  besieged  felt  in  the  very  marrow  of  their  bones.  The 
sun  shone,  but  the  city  seemed  obscured  by  a  fetid  mist 
which  imparted  to  people  and  to  houses  a  leaden  color. 

One  morning,  on  his  way  to  the  upper  part  of  the 
mount  where  the  defense  continued,  Actaeon  met  the  pru- 


308  S6NNICA 

dent  Alcon  in  the  Forum.     This  loyal  citizen  revealed 
discouragement   in   his    dejected    appearance. 

"  Athenian/'  he  said,  with  a  mysterious  expression, 
"  I  am  resolved  that  this  must  end.  The  city 
can  resist  no  further.  She  has  waited  long  enough  for 
aid  from  Rome.  Let  Saguntum  fall,  and  let  Rome  be 
filled  with  shame  because  of  her  infidelity  to  her  allies. 
This  day  I  shall  go  to  Hannibal's  camp  and  sue  for 
peace." 

"  Have  you  considered  it  carefully  ?"  exclaimed  the 
Greek.  "  Do  you  not  fear  the  indignation  of  your 
people  when  they  see  you  treating  with  the  enemy?" 

"  I  love  my  city  well,  and  I  cannot  remain  impassive 
and  witness  its  sacrifice,  its  interminable  agony.  Few 
are  aware  of  the  actual  conditions,  but  I  can  tell  you, 
Actaeon,  because  you  are  discreet.  We  are  much  worse 
off  than  the  people  realize.  There  is  not  a  scrap  of  meat 
left  for  those  who  are  defending  our  walls.  This  morning 
there  was  nothing  but  mud  in  the  bottom  of  the  cisterns. 
We  have  no  water.  A  few  days  more  of  resistance  and 
we  shall  be  forced  to  eat  dead  bodies  like  those  soulless 
creatures  who  feed  by  night.  We  shall  have  to  kill 
the  children  to  placate  our  thirst  with  their  blood." 

Alcon  was  silent  for  a  moment;  he  passed  his  hand 
over  his  forehead  with  a  gesture  of  pain  as  if  to  ob- 
literate terrible  recollections. 

"  No  one  knows  better  than  we  Elders  what  occurs 
in  the  city,"  he  continued.  "  The  gods  must  shudder 
with  horror  when  they  see  the  deeds  done  in  Saguntum 
since  they  abandoned  her.  Listen  and  forget,  Acteeon," 
he  said  in  a  low  voice  and  with  an  accent  of  fear.  "  Yes- 
terday two  women,  maddened  by  hunger,  drew  lots  to 


THE  HUNGRY  CITY  809 

choose  which  one  of  their  children  they  should  devour. 
We  Elders  have  closed  our  eyes  and  our  ears; 
we  have  not  desired  to  see  nor  to  hear,  under- 
standing that  punishment  would  only  serve  to  increase 
the  horrors.  The  men  who  are  fighting  on  the  walls 
are  chewing  the  leather  from  their  weapons  to  deceive 
hunger.  Their  flesh  is  loosened  from  their  bones,  they 
weaken  and  fall  as  if  wounded  by  an  invisible  stroke 
from  the  gods.  We  have  resisted  for  nearly  eight 
months ;  two-thirds  of  the  city  no  longer  exists.  We  have 
done  enough  to  demonstrate  before  heaven  and  before 
man  how  Saguntum  fulfills  her  oaths." 

The  Greek  bowed  his  head,  convinced  by  Alcon's 
arguments. 

"  Moreover  the  valor  of  the  city  is  breaking  down/' 
continued  the  Elder.  "  Faith  is  dying.  The  omens  are 
all  against  us.  There  are  people  who,  during  the  night, 
have  seen  globes  of  fire  rise  from  the  Acropolis  and  fly 
toward  the  sea,  plunging  into  the  waters  like  shooting 
stars  which  cut  through  the  blue  of  heaven  with  » 
stream  of  light.  The  people  believe  that  they  are  the 
penates  of  the  city,  who,  divining  the  coming  destruc- 
tion of  Saguntum,  are  abandoning  it  to  go  and  establish 
themselves  on  the  other  side  of  the  sea  whence  they 
came.  Last  night,  those  who  were  watching  up  there  in 
the  temple  of  Hercules  saw  a  serpent  glide  from  beneath 
the  tomb  of  Zacynthus,  hissing  as  if  it  were  wounded. 
It  was  blue,  with  golden  stars — the  serpent  which  bit 
Zacynthus  and  was  the  cause  of  the  foundation  of  the 
city  around  the  tomb,  of  the  hero.  He  crawled  between 
the  feet  of  the  astonished  watchers;  he  fled  down  the 
mount,  and  crept  off  across  the  plain  in  the  direction  of 


310  S6NNICA 

the  sea.  He  also  has  abandoned  us;  the  sacred  reptile 
which  was  like  the  tutelary  god  of  Saguntum." 

"  It  may  not  be  true,"  said  the  Greek.  "  It  may  be 
the  hallucinations  of  a  people  tormented  by  hunger." 

"  That  may  be ;  but  observe  the  women  and  you  will 
find  them  weeping;  in  addition  to  their  misery  they  are 
lamenting  the  flight  of  the  serpent  of  Zacynthus.  They 
believe  the  city  defenseless,  and  many  men  on  the  walls 
will  feel  weaker  to-day  when  they  hear  of  the  strange 
disappearance.  Faith  is  the  staff  on  which  the  people 
lean." 

The  two  men  remained  silent  for  a  while. 

"Go,"  said  the  Greek,  at  last:  "Speak  to  Hannibal, 
and  may  the  gods  incline  his  heart  toward  clemency!" 

"  Why  do  you  not  come  with  me — you  who  have 
traveled  so  much,  and  who  possess  the  eloquence  of  con- 
viction? You  can  help  me." 

"  Hannibal  knows  me.  I  have  refused  his  friendship, 
and  he  hates  me.  Go  and  save  the  city.  My  fate  is 
sealed.  The  African  will  never  abate  his  anger.  He 
will  pardon  anyone  but  me.  I  will  die  rather  than 
become  his  slave,  or  suffer  myself  to  be  put  to  death 
on  a  cross." 


CHAPTER  X 

THE    LAST    NIGHT 

FIGHTING  on  the  walls  with  the  defenders  of  the  upper 
part  of  the  city  late  in  the  afternoon  Actaeon  saw  Rhante 
coming  down  a  street  near  the  ramparts. 

He  had  not  seen  the  shepherdess  since  his  return  to 
Saguntum,  and  now  he  noticed  the  changes  wrought  by 
the  sufferings  of  the  siege,  and  by  the  grief  which  was 
breaking  her  reason. 

She  walked  absorbed,  with  bowed  head,  unconscious  of 
her  surroundings,  and  in  her  tangled  hair  were  little 
faded  flowers  which  at  every  step  dropped  their 
withered  petals.  Her  torn  and  dirty  tunic  gave  glimpses 
of  her  emaciated  body,  which  still  preserved  the  grace 
and  freshness  admired  by  the  Greek.  Her  breasts  had 
developed  somewhat,  as  if  pain  had  matured  her  figure; 
her  eyes  dilated  by  dementia,  seemed  to  fill  her  whole 
face,  shedding  a  mysterious  light  about  her,  an  aureole 
of  fever. 

She  advanced  slowly,  raising  her  head  at  times,  look- 
ing up  at  the  men  on  the  wall,  and  finally  stopping  at  the 
foot  of  the  stone  steps  she  murmured  in  a  supplicating 
voice,  like  the  convulsive  sobbing  of  a  child: 

"  Erotion !   Erotion !" 

Behind  the  mantelets  of  the  besiegers  the  defenders 
noticed  fresh  activity,  as  if  a  new  attack  against  the 

311 


312  S6NNICA 

city  were  being  attempted,  but  in  spite  of  it  the  Greek 
came  down  from  the  wall  in  his  eagerness  to  see  the 
girl. 

"  Rhanto,  shepherdess,  do  you  know  me  ?" 

He  addressed  her  tenderly,  taking  one  of  her  hands, 
but  she  tried  to  spring  away  from  him,  as  if  she  had  been 
startled  from  a  sleep.  Then  she  grew  faint,  and  fixing 
her  enormous,  frightened  eyes  on  the  Greek,  she  ex- 
claimed : 

"You!    Is  it  you?" 

"  Do   you   recognize   me  ?'" 

"  Yes,  you  are  the  Athenian ;  you  are  my  master ;  the 
lover  of  Sonnica  the  rich.  Tell  me,  where  is  Erotion?" 

The  Greek  did  not  know  how  to  answer,  but  Rhanto 
continued  speaking  without  awaiting  his  reply. 

"  They  tell  me  he  is  dead ;  even  I  saw  him  lying  at 
the  foot  of  the  walls;  but  it  is  not  true;  it  was  a  bad 
dream.  It  was  his  father,  Mopsus  the  archer,  who  died. 
Since  then  he  runs  away  from  me  as  if  he  wishes  to 
weep  alone  for  his  father's  death.  He  hides  from  me 
by  day.  I  see  him  from  afar,  upon  the  walls,  among  the 
defenders,  but  when  I  climb  up  to  search  for  him  I 
find  none  but  armed  men,  and  Erotion  disappears. 
He  is  only  faithful  to  me  at  night.  Then  he  seeks  me, 
he  comes  to  me.  Scarcely  do  I  conceal  myself  at  the 
foot  of  the  stairway  and  rest  my  head  upon  my  knees 
than  I  see  him  coming,  looking  for  me  in  the  darkness, 
strong  and  loving,  with  his  quiver  at  his  side  and  his 
bow  slung  across  his  shoulders.  When  he  comes  the 
ferocious  dogs  which  slink  through  the  shadows,  sniffing 
in  my  face  and  staring  at  me  with  their  gloomy  eyes,  are 


THE  LAST  NIGHT  313 

frightened  away.  He  comes  to  me,  he  sits  beside  me; 
he  smiles,  but  he  is  ever  silent.  I  speak  to  him  and  he 
answers  me  with  a  tender  glance,  but  never  with  a 
word.  I  seek  his  shoulder,  to  lean  my  head  upon  it  as 
in  other  days,  and  he  flees,  he  disappears  as  if  dissolved 
in  shadow.  What  does  it  mean,  good  Greek?  If  you  see 
him,  ask  him  why  he  hides  from  me.  Tell  him  not  to 

run  away! He  loves  you  so  much,  so  much!  How 

often  has  he  talked  to  me  of  you  and  of  your  country!" 

She  was  silent  a  moment,  as  if  these  words  had  aroused 
within  her  a  whole  past  of  recollections.  With  a  painful 
effort,  which  was  reflected  in  her  face,  she  caught  at 
them  and  arranged  them  in  her  mind.  Slowly  surged 
through  her  memory  again  the  image  of  those  happy 
days  before  the  siege  when  she  and  Erotion  ran  hand  in 
hand  through  the  valley  and  had  for  their  house  all  the 
groves  of  the  Saguntine  domain. 

She  smiled  at  Actaeon,  looking  at  him  affectionately, 
and  she  recalled  their  several  meetings ;  their  first  inter- 
view on  the  Road  of  the  Serpent  when  he  had  just  dis- 
embarked, poor  and  unknown.  Then,  the  touch  of  pater- 
nal protection  with  which  he  greeted  them  when  he  found 
them  in  the  fields  climbing  the  cherry  trees  and  quarrel- 
ing playfully  over  the  red  fruit,  and  that  surprise  be- 
neath the  leafy  fig  trees,  when  she,  in  her  virginal 
beauty  was  acting  as  a  model  for  the  young  sculptor. 
Did  he  remember?  Had  the  Greek  forgotten  those 
days  of  peace  and  joy? 

Actaeon  did  indeed  cherish  them  in  his  memory.  He 
still  retained  the  impression  caused  by  the  vision  of 
the  lovely  shepherdess,  and  at  the  same  moment  his  eyes 


314  S6NNICA 

searched  the  tattered  tunic,  seeking  with  an  artist's 
delight  the  warm  tones  of  her  amber  skin. 

But  Rhanto's  mind,  after  evoking  these  recollections, 
began  again  to  wander.  Where  was  Erotion  ?  Had  Actaeon 
seen  him?  Was  he  up  there  with  the  defenders?  The 
Greek  held  her  back  catching  her  by  the  hand  to  pre- 
vent her  climbing  to  the  top  of  the  wall. 

The  defenders  were  shouting  wildly,  shooting  their 
arrows  and  throwing  darts  and  stones.  The  besiegers 
had  begun  the  attack.  Projectiles  came  hurtling  from  out- 
side the  walls,  passing  over  the  merlons  like  dark- 
colored  birds,  as  if  the  Africans  were  covering  an  as- 
sault with  battering-rams  and  pickaxes  to  open  a  breach. 

Actaeon,  who  since  his  return  to  Saguntum  had  again 
assumed  control  of  the  work  of  defense,  must  go  up  on 
the  wall. 

"  Run  away,  Rhanto,"  he  said  hastily.  "  You  will  be 

killed  here.  Go  to  Sonnica's  house -I  will  take  you 

to  Erotion.  But  fly!  Hide  yourself!  See  how  the 
missiles  are  falling  around  us!" 

He  shoved  her  from  the  stairway  with  an  energetic 
push  which  nearly  drove  her  to  her  knees. 

The  Greek  ran  up  hastily,  hearing  the  ceaseless  and 
deadly  hisses  rending  the  air  about  his  head.  Before 
he  reached  the  merlons  he  heard  a  faint  groan  at  his 
back,  a  gentle  cry  which  recalled  to  Actseon's  mind 
the  bleating  of  a  fawn  when  pierced  by  the  huntsman's 
arrow.  Turning  he  saw  Rhanto  half  way  up  the  steps, 
wavering,  ready  to  fall  backward,  her  breast  covered 
with  blood  and  pierced  by  a  long  feather-tipped  shaft, 
still  quivering  from  the  swiftness  of  its  flight. 


THE  LAST  NIGHT  315 

She  had  started  to  follow  him  up  the  wall,  but  an 
arrow  had  caught  her. 

"Rhanto!  Poor  Rhanto!" 

Obeying  an  impulse  of  grief  which  he  could  not  ex- 
plain to  himself,  but  which  was  stronger  than  his  will, 
he  forgot  the  defense  of  the  wall,  the  attack  of  the 
enemy,  everything,  to  run  toward  the  girl,  who  sank  down 
with  the  gentle  flutter  of  a  wounded  bird. 

He  took  her  in  his  strong  arms  and  laid  her  at  the 
foot  of  the  steps.  Rhanto  sighed,  moving  her  head  as 
if  trying  to  rid  herself  of  the  pain  which  had  taken  pos- 
session of  her. 

The  Greek  supported  her  by  the  shoulders,  calling 
tenderly : 

"Rhanto!  Rhanto!" 

In  her  eyes,  enlarged  by  pain,  the  light  seemed  to 
condense.  The  expression  of  her  face  had  now  become 
sane;  it  lost,  at  moments,  the  vagueness  of  dementia. 
Pain  seemed  to  have  restored  her  reason,  and  in  this 
supreme  moment  of  lucidity  the  whole  past  arose  clear 
in  her  mind. 

"  Do  not  die,  Rhanto,"  murmured  the  Greek,  im- 
pulsively, "  wait ;  I  will  draw  out  that  iron ;  I  will  carry 
you  on  my  back  to  the  Forum  so  that  they  shall  cure 
you." 

But  the  girl  shook  her  head  sadly.  No,  she  wished 
to  die.  She  wished  to  join  Erotion,  near  the  gods,  among 
the  clouds  of  rose  and  gold  where  wandered  the  Mother 
of  Love,  followed  by  those  who  had  loved  each  other 
devotedly  on  earth.  She  had  roamed  for  weeks  like 
a  shadow  among  the  horrors  of  the  besieged  city,  be- 


316  S6NNICA 

lieving  that  Erotion  still  lived,  searching  for  him  every- 
where; but  Erotion  was  dead;  she  remembered  it  well 
now;  she  herself  had  seen  his  corpse. 

"Since  he  is  dead  why  should  I  live?" 

"  Live  for  me !"  cried  Actaaon,  stung  with  grief,  un- 
conscious of  his  surroundings,  deaf  to  the  cries  of  the 
defenders  on  the  wall  and  to  the  footsteps  of  someone 
approaching  on  the  street. 

"  Rhanto,  shepherdess,  listen  to  me !  Now  I  under- 
stand why  I  longed  to  see  you;  why  your  memory  came 
to  me  so  often  in  Rome  whenever  I  thought  of  Sagun- 
tum.  Live  and  be  to  Actaeon  the  last  spring  of  his 
existence !  I  love  you,  Rhanto !  You  are  my  last  love ; 
the  flower  which  blooms  in  the  winter  of  my  life !  I  love 
you,  Rhanto !  I  have  loved  you  since  that  day  when  I 
saw  you  revealed  like  a  goddess.  Live  and  let  me  be 
your  Erotion!" 

The  girl,  her  face  clouded  by  the  shadow  of  death, 
smiled,  murmuring: 

"  Actaeon,  good  Greek,  thank  you,  thank  you !" 

Her  head  slipped  from  between  Actaeon's  hands  and 
fell  heavily  on  the  ground.  The  Athenian  remained  mo- 
tionless, mutely  gazing  at  the  body  of  the  girl.  The 
silence  which  suddenly  fell  on  the  wall  seemed  to  arouse 
him  from  his  painful  stupor.  The  besiegers  had  sus- 
pended the  attack.  The  Greek  stood  up,  but  he  knelt 
again  to  press  kisses  on  the  still  warm  mouth  of  the 
shepherdess  and  upon  her  unquivering  wide-open  eyes, 
in  which  the  red  splendor  of  the  setting  sun  was  re- 
flected as  in  quiet  waters. 

As  he  arose  he  was  startled  by  Sonnica  standing 
quietly  before  him,  with  cold,  ironic  stare. 


THE  LAST  NIGHT  317 

"Sonnica!  You!" 

"  I  came  to  tell  you  to  hasten  to  the  Forum.  A  mes- 
senger from  the  hostile  camp  has  presented  himself  at 
the  gates  of  the  city  asking  to  speak  to  the  Elders.  The 
people  are  gathered  in  the  Forum." 

Despite  the  importance  of  the  news  Actaeon  did  not 
stir.  He  was  transfixed  by  Sonnica's  cold  rigidity. 

"  How  long  have  you  been  here  ?" 

"  Long  enough  to  see  how  you  bade  my  slave  fare- 
well forever!" 

She  was  silent  for  a  moment,  then  as  if  impelled  by 
a  sentiment  stronger  than  her  will,  she  approached  him 
with  flashing  eyes  and  with  outstretched  hands. 

"  Did  you  really  love  her  ?"  she  asked  bitterly. 

"  Yes,"  he  replied,  faintly,  as  if  ashamed  of  the  con- 
fession. "  I  know  now  that  I  loved  her but  I  love 

you  also." 

They  stood  motionless,  their  eyes  fixed  upon  the  body 
which  lay  between  them.  It  was  like  a  cold  interven- 
ing wall,  suddenly  risen  and  separating  them  forever. 

Actaeon  was  shamed  by  the  grief  which  his  words 
caused  her  who  had  so  loved  him.  Sonnica  seemed 
stunned  by  his  immense  deception,  and  she  gazed  frigid- 
ly at  the  body  of  the  slave  with  the  eyes  of  an  im- 
placable Nemesis. 

"  Go,  Actaeon !"  she  said.  "  They  are  waiting  for  you 
in  the  Forum.  The  Elders  are  calling  for  you  to  serve 
as  interpreter  for  the  messenger  from  Hannibal." 

The  Athenian  advanced  a  few  steps,  and  then  stopped, 
gently  imploring  mercy  for  the  body. 


318  SONNICA 

"  It  will  be  deserted.  Night  is  coming  on,  and 

the  hungry  dogs the  soulless  men  who  look  for 

corpses 

He  chilled  with  horror  to  think  that  the  beautiful 
body  which  had  thrilled  him  with  admiration  might  be 
devoured  by  the  beasts. 

Sonnica  replied  with  a  gesture.  He  might  go.  She 
would  stay  on  guard,  and,  mastered  by  her  chill  hauteur, 
he  turned  and  hastened  toward  the  Forum. 

As  he  reached  the  quadrangle  it  was  growing  dark. 
In  the  centre  burned  the  great  fire  which  was  lighted 
every  night  to  combat  the  mortal  springtime  chill. 

The  Elders  brought  their  ivory  chairs  to  the  foot  of 
the  temple  steps  to  receive  Hannibal's  messenger  in  the 
presence  of  the  populace.  The  news  had  circulated 
throughout  the  city,  and  the  people  flocked  to  the  Forum, 
eager  to  hear  the  propositions  of  the  besieger.  New 
groups  poured  in  each  moment  along  the  streets  leading 
to  the  great  square  where  the  waning  life  of  the  city 
was  concentrated. 

Actaeon  placed  himself  near  the  Elders.  He  glanced 
around  for  Alcon,  but  failed  to  see  him.  The  aged 
senator  was  still  in  the  hostile  camp,  and  the  coming  of 
this  emissary  must  be  in  consequence  of  his  interview 
with  Hannibal. 

A  senator  explained  the  circumstances.  An  unarmed 
enemy  had  presented  himself  before  the  walls,  waving 
an  olive  branch.  He  asked  to  speak  to  the  Senate  in  the 
name  of  the  besiegers,  and  the  assembly  of  Elders 
thought  it  wise  to  summon  the  whole  city  to  participate 
in  this  supreme  deliberation. 

Orders  to  admit  the  messenger  had  been  given,  and 


THE  LAST  NIGHT  319 

soon  an  armed  group  was  seen  approaching,  making  its 
way  through  the  crowd,  conducting  a  man  with  uncovered 
head,  unarmed,  and  carrying  a  branch  in  his  right  hand 
as  a  symbol  of  peace. 

As  he  passed  before  the  fire  the  ruddy  glow  of  the 
flames  fell  full  upon  his  face  and  the  Forum  reverberated 
with  a  clamor  of  indignation.  They  had  recognized 
him: 

"  Alorcus !  It  is  Alorcus !' 

"  Traitor !" 

"  Ingrate !" 

Many  hands  reached  for  their  swords  to  fall  upon 
him;  above  the  heads  of  the  multitude  menacing  arms 
brandished  spears;  but  the  presence  of  the  Elders,  and 
the  sad  smile  of  the  Celtiberian  restrained  them. 
Moreover,  the  people  felt  the  weakness  of  hunger; 
they  had  little  strength  left  for  indignation,  and  they 
were  eager  to  hear  the  messenger,  to  learn  the  fate  re- 
served for  them  by  the  enemy. 

Alorcus  advanced  until  he  stood  before  the  Elders, 
and  the  great  concourse  subsided  into  profound  silence, 
interrupted  only  by  the  crackling  of  the  wood  in  the  fire. 
All  eyes  were  fixed  on  the  Celtiberian.  "  Alcon  the 
prudent  is  not  with  you?"  he  began. 

They  glanced  around  in  surprise.  It  was  true;  until 
then  the  absence  of  the  man  who  was  first  in  all  public 
acts,  had  not  been  noticed. 

"  You  look  for  him  in  vain,"  continued  the  Celti- 
berian. "  Alcon  is  in  the  camp  of  Hannibal.  Heart- 
broken over  the  condition  of  the  city,  realizing  that  it 
is  impossible  to  persist  longer  in  the  defense,  he  has 
sacrificed  himself  for  you,  and  at  the  risk  of  his  life  he 


320  S6NNICA 

came  to  Hannibal's  tent  a  few  hours  ago  to  beg  him, 
with  tears,  to  have  compassion  upon  you." 

"And  why  has  he  not  returned  with  you?"  asked 
one  of  the  Elders. 

"  He  was  afraid  and  ashamed  to  repeat  Hannibal's 

words  to  you the  conditions  which  he  imposed  for 

the  surrender  of  the  city." 

The  silence  grew  more  oppressive.  The  multitude 
divined  in  the  terror  of  the  absent  Alcon  the  frightful 
demands  of  the  conqueror  which  made  all  hearts  beat  fast 
with  dread  even  before  hearing  them. 

Fresh  groups  of  people  kept  straggling  in  to  the  Forum. 
Even  the  defenders  of  the  city  abandoned  the  walls, 
attracted  by  the  event,  and  stood  at  the  entrances  of  the 
streets  around  the  quadrangle,  the  flames  from  the  bon- 
fire glinting  on  their  bronze  helmets  and  on  their  shields 
of  varied  shapes,  round,  rectangular,  and  oval.  Actaeon 
also  saw  Sonnica  make  her  way  through  the  crowd  and 
seat  herself  near  the  group  formed  by  the  elegant 
young  gallants  who  admired  her. 

Alorcus  continued  speaking: 

"  You  know  me  well.  A  moment  ago  I  heard  threats, 
I  saw  menacing  gestures  when  you  recognized  me.  I 
understand  your  indignation  at  seeing  me  before  you. 
Perhaps  I  am  an  ingrate;  but  remember  that  I  was  born 
in  other  lands,  and  that  my  father's  death  placed  me 
at  the  head  of  a  people  whom  I  have  to  obey  and  to 
lead  in  their  alliances.  Never  have  I  forgotten  that  I 
was  the  guest  of  Saguntum;  I  cherish  the  memory  of 
your  hospitality,  and  I  am  as  interested  in  the  fate  of 
this  city  as  if  it  were  my  native  land.  Ponder  well 
your  situation,  Saguntines!  Valor  has  its  limits,  and  no 


THE  LAST  NIGHT  321 

matter  how  much  you  exert  yourselves  the  gods  have 
decreed  the  ruin  of  heroic  Saguntum.  They  show  it 
by  having  forsaken  you,  and  your  courage  is  all  in 
vain  before  their  immutable  will." 

The  vague  words  of  Alorcus  augmented  the  dread 
of  the  people.  They  feared  the  conditions  set  by  Han- 
nibal, and  they  read  their  harshness  in  the  Celtiberian's 
hesitation  in  pronouncing  them. 

"  The  conditions !  Tell  us  the  conditions !"  they  shout- 
ed from  all  sides  of  the  Forum. 

"  The  proof  that  I  have  come  in  your  sole  interests/' 
continued  Alorcus,  as  if  he  did  not  hear  their  cries, 
"  lies  in  the  fact  that  as  long  as  you  were  able  to  resist 
with  your  own  strength,  and  while  you  expected  assis- 
tance from  the  Romans,  never  did  I  come  to  counsel 
your  submission.  But  your  walls  can  no  longer  defend 
you;  every  day  hundreds  of  Saguntines  perish  from 
hunger;  the  Romans  will  not  come;  they  are  far  away, 
and  occupied  with  other  wars;  in  place  of  sending  you 
legions  they  send  you  legates,  and  thus  I,  seeing  that 
Alcon  hesitated  to  return,  face  your  indignation  to 
bring  you  a  peace  rather  necessary  than  advantageous." 

"  The  conditions !  The  conditions !"  demanded  the 
multitude,  with  a  formidable  howl  which  shook  the 
Forum. 

"  Remember,"  said  Alorcus,  "  that  what  the  conquer- 
or offers  you  is  a  gift,  for  to-day  he  is  master  of  every- 
thing you  possess — your  lives  and  your  estates." 

This  terrible  truth,  falling  upon  the  multitude,  pro- 
duced silence.  "  Saguntum,  which,  for  the  greater  part 
is  already  in  ruins,  and  whose  extremes  his  troops  al- 
ready occupy,  he  takes  from  you  as  a  punishment;  but 


322  S6NNICA 

Hannibal  will  permit  you  to  build  a  new  city  in  the 
place  which  he  will  designate.  All  your  riches,  those  in 
the  public  treasury  as  well  as  those  in  your  houses, 
shall  be  turned  over  to  the  conqueror.  Hannibal  will 
respect  your  lives  and  those  of  your  wives  and  children, 
but  you  must  depart  from  Saguntum  to  a  place  which 
he  will  indicate,  unarmed,  and  with  but  two  garments 
each.  I  understand  that  these  terms  are  stern,  but  your 
misfortune  commends  them  to  you,  for  it  is  worse  to 
die,  and  to  have  your  families  fall  as  booty  of  war  into 
the  hands  of  a  triumphant  army." 

Alorcus  ceased  speaking,  but  still  the  Forum  remained 
in  silence,  a  silence  profound,  threatening,  like  the 
leaden  calm  which  precedes  the  tempest. 

"No,  Saguntines!  No!"  shouted  a  woman. 

Actaeon  recognized  the  voice  of  Sonnica. 

"  No,  no !"  answered  the  multitude,  with  a  thundering 
echo. 

They  swayed  and  surged  from  place  to  place;  com- 
pact masses  crowded  against  each  other,  possessed  with 
fury,  as  if  they  would  rend  themselves  in  pieces  to 
give  vent  to  the  wrath  produced  by  the  conditions  of  the 
conqueror. 

Sonnica  had  disappeared;  but  Actaeon  saw  her  return 
to  the  Forum  followed  by  a  cordon  of  people,  slaves, 
women,  soldiers,  bearing  upon  their  backs  the  rich 
furniture  from  the  villa  which  had  been  stored  in  the 
warehouse;  the  chests  of  jewels,  the  sumptuous  tapes- 
tries, ingots  of  silver,  and  boxes  of  gold  dust.  The  muL 
titude  observed  this  procession  of  riches  without  guess 
ing  Sonnica's  puroose. 


THE  LAST  NIGHT  323 

*'  No !  No !"  repeated  the  Greek  woman,  as  if  talk- 
ing to  herself. 

She  was  infuriated  at  the  conqueror's  proposals.  She 
imagined  herself  departing  from  the  city  with  no  other 
fortune  than  the  tunic  she  wore  and  another  over  her 
arm,  compelled  to  beg  along  the  highway,  or  to  labor  in 
the  fields  as  a  slave,  persecuted  by  the  fierce  soldiers 
of  many  nations ! 

"  No !  No !"  she  repeated  energetically,  making  her 
way  through  the  crowd  to  the  fire  in  the  centre  of  the 
Forum. 

She  was  magnificent  with  her  auburn  hair  loosened  in 
her  excitement,  her  tunic  rent  by  struggling  through  the 
multitude,  her  eyes  flashing  with  the  expression  of  a 
Fury  who  found  an  acrid  satisfaction  in  destruction. 
Of  what  use  were  riches?  Of  what  use  was  life?  Her 
desperate  energy  was  spurred  by  the  bitterness  which 
she  had  tasted  an  hour  ago  before  the  body  of  her  slave. 

She  gave  the  signal  by  hurling  into  the  bonfire  an 
image  of  Venus  in  jasper  and  silver  which  she  carried 
in  her  arms,  and  which  disappeared  in  the  flames  as  if 
it  were  a  clod.  The  wretched  and  starving  crowd  which 
followed  imitated  her  with  intense  relish.  The  destruc- 
tion of  so  many  riches  made  them  howl  with  joy,  and 
they  danced  in  their  gladness — they,  so  poor,  who  had 
passed  their  lives  in  the  deprivation  of  slavery!  Into 
the  flames  fell  dainty  caskets  of  ivory,  cedar,  and  ebony, 
and  as  they  clashed  against  the  firewood  they  burst  open, 
spilling  treasures  within — collars  of  pearls,  clusters  of 
topazes  and  emeralds,  diamond  earrings,  the  whole  scale 
of  precious  stones,  which  sparkled  for  an  instant  against 
the  half-burnt  wood  like  gleaming  salamanders.  Then 


324  S6NNICA 

came  the  tapestries,  the  silver-embroidered  veils,  the 
tunics  of  spun-gold  flowers,  the  golden  sandals,  the 
chairs  with  lion  claws,  the  couches  with  metal  clamps, 
mirrors,  lamps,  bottles  of  perfume,  rich  inlaid  marble 
tables,  all  the  splendors  of  Sonnica  the  rich.  The  pov- 
erty-stricken multitude,  transported  by  this  sacrifice, 
applauded  with  bellowing  enthusiasm  as  it  saw  the  fire 
grow  and  grow  with  so  much  fuel,  until  the  flames  mount- 
ed to  a  great  height  and  scattered  ashes  and  sparks 
over  the  roofs  of  the  houses. 

"  Hannibal  wants  riches !"  shouted  Sonnica  in  a  hoarse 
voice  which  resembled  a  howl.  "  Come,  pile  here  your 
treasures,  and  let  the  African  lay  siege  to  the  fire  for 
them!" 

No  need  of  urging  them  to  imitate  her !  Many  of  the 
Elders  who  had  withdrawn  at  the  first  moment  of  con- 
fusion now  returned  to  the  Forum  carrying  chests  be- 
neath their  white  mantles,  and  flung  them  into  the  fire. 
They  were  the  hoarded  treasures  from  their  houses. 

Above  the  heads  of  the  multitude  furniture  and  rich 
fabrics  passed  from  hand  to  hand  until  they  tumbled 
into  the  immense  furnace,  which  whirled  its  flames 
higher  and  higher,  crowned  by  a  white  and  luminous 
smoke. 

It  was  a  holocaust  in  honor  of  the  dead  and  silent  gods 
on  the  Acropolis.  Houses  seemed  to  turn  themselves 
inside  out  to  fling  their  adornments  and  riches  upon  the 
fire.  The  men  pursued  their  work  of  destruction  silent- 
ly and  gloomily;  but  the  women  seemed  mad,  and  they 
danced  around  the  huge  bonfire,  disheveled,  screaming, 
their  eyes  bulging  from  their  sockets,  hypnotized,  caress- 
ing the  flames  with  their  garments,  intoxicated  by  the 


THE  LAST  NIGHT  325 

glare,  scratching  their  faces  unconscious  of  their  acts, 
and  bellowing  curses  with  mouths  foaming  with  rage. 
Crazed  by  the  infernal  round,  unable  to  resist  the  fas- 
cination of  the  lambent  flames,  one  of  them  sprang  and 
fell  into  the  fire.  Her  hair  and  clothing  blazed  for  an  in- 
stant like  a  torch,  and  she  sank  among  the  white-hot 
coals.  Another  hurled  into  the  roaring  crematory,  as 
if  it  were  a  ball,  the  babe  she  had  borne  in  her  arms 
clinging  to  her  empty  breast,  and  then,  as  if  repentant 
for  her  crime,  she  followed  the  child  into  the  burning 
pile. 

The  conflagration  had  extended  to  the  wooden  roofs 
of  the  houses  around  the  Forum.  A  chaplet  of  flame 
began  to  inwreathe  the  square.  The  heat  and  smoke 
were  stifling,  and  the  furniture  seemed  to  travel  auto- 
matically above  the  heads  of  the  crowd  toward  the 
incandescent  kiln  through  the  dense  sooty  atmosphere. 
Lachares  and  his  elegant  friends  began  to  talk  of  death. 
Those  effeminate  beings  discussed  with  sublime  tran- 
quility  the  manner  of  their  end.  They  did  not  wish  to 
follow  Sonnica,  who  had  just  armed  herself  with  sword 
and  shield  to  sally  forth  against  the  besieging  camp 
and  die  fighting.  It  was  repugnant  to  them  to  think  of 
struggling  with  rude,  half-savage  soldiers,  to  inhale  their 
wild-beast  odors,  and  to  fall  with  their  painted  faces 
cleft  by  a  blow,  covered  with  blood,  and  wallowing  in 
gore  like  a  beheaded  ox;  neither  did  it  please  them  to 
stab  themselves — that  was  a  means  reserved  for  heroes. 
They  preferred  to  die  in  the  flames ;  they  recollected  the 
sacrifice  of  the  Asiatic  queens  who  perished  in  a  fire  of 
perfumed  woods.  What  a  pity  that  this  fire  smelled  so- 
ill!  But  it  was  not  a  moment  for  refinements;  drawing 


326  S6NNICA 

their  mantles  over  their  eyes,  shoving  their  little  slave- 
boys  before  them  with  their  depilated  and  perfumed  arms, 
one  after  the  other  the  elegant  young  gallants  walked 
into  the  fire  with  tranquil  step,  as  if  still  dwelling  in 
those  days  of  peace  when  they  strolled  through  the 
Forum,  gratified  by  the  scandal  caused  by  their  feminine 
adornments. 

Sonnica  gathered  her  tunic  around  her  waist  in  order 
to  run  with  greater  freedom.,  leaving  disclosed  the 
resplendent  whiteness  of  her  limbs. 

"  We  are  going  to  die,  Euphobias,"  she  said  to  the 
philosopher,  who  stood  absorbed  in  contemplation  before 
this  spectacle  of  destruction. 

For  the  first  time  the  philosopher  failed  to  display 
his  insolent  and  ironic  manner.  He  was  grave  and 
frowning;  gazing  at  the  people  whom  he  had  so  often 
ridiculed,  beholding  the  heroism  of  their  death. 

"  Die?"  he  exclaimed.  "Must  we  die?  Do  you  think 
so,  Sonnica?" 

"  Yes ;  he  who  is  not  willing  to  be  a  slave  must  die. 
Get  a  sword  and  follow  me !" 

"  No,  if  I  must  die  I  will  avoid  the  fatigue  of  running 
and  the  exertion  of  striking  blows.  I  will  die  placidly 
in  the  sweet  indolence  which  ever  embellished  my  life." 

Slowly,  deliberately,  he  walked  over  to  the  fire, 
covered  his  face  with  his  patched  and  mended  mantle, 
and  laid  himself  in  the  flames  as  calmly  as  he  used  to 
drop  down  on  the  porticos  of  the  Forum  in  the  old  days 
of  peace. 

On  the  steps  of  the  temple  the  Elders  were  stabbing 
themselves  in  their  breasts  with  a  dagger.  Before 
breathing  his  last,  each  passed  the  weapon  on  to  big 


THE  LAST  NIGHT  327 

nearest  companion,  and  they  died  trying  to  maintain 
themselves  erect  in  their  chairs  of  state.  Groups  of 
women  caught  up  torches  lighted  at  the  great  fire,  and 
scattered  like  furious  bacchantes  throughout  Saguntum, 
setting  fire  to  doors,  and  flinging  burning  brands  upon 
the  wooden  roofs. 

Suddenly  from  the  direction  of  the  citadel  where  the 
attacks  of  the  besiegers  had  been  concentrated,  arose 
an  appalling  commotion,  as  if  half  a  mountain  had  top- 
pled over.  The  walls  had  been  abandoned  by  the  de- 
fenders who  had  gathered  in  the  Forum,  and  a  tower 
which  the  Carthaginians  had  undermined  some  days 
before  had  fallen.  A  cohort  of  Hannibal's  army,  seeing 
the  city  destitute  of  the  usual  outposts  and  guards, 
rushed  through  the  breach,  and  made  a  signal  for  Han- 
nibal to  enter  with  his  hosts. 

"Come  on!  come  on!"  shouted  Sonnica  with  a  hoarse 
voice.  "  This  is  our  last  night !  I  will  not  die  in  the 
fire !  I  choose  to  die  fighting !  I  want  blood !" 

She  flew  from  the  Forum  like  a  Fury,  followed  by 
Actseon  who  ran  beside  her  calling  her  name,  trying 
to  gain  a  look  from  her.  But  the  beautiful  Greek 
woman  was  insensible  in  her  rage,  as  if  she  had  at  her 
side  someone  she  had  never  seen  before.  They  were 
followed  by  a  discordant  crowd,  armed  citizens,  women 
brandishing  knives  and  darts,  naked  youths  with  no 
other  defense  than  a  spear.  They  poured  out  like  a 
stampeded  herd,  their  bronze  corselets  and  their  hel- 
mets with  broken  crests  shimmering  in  the  firelight,  their 
weapons  dyed  in  blood,  and  displaying  through  the 
tatters  of  their  clothing  emaciated  limbs  which  seemed  to 
dance  in  their  loose  skin,  dried  and  wrinkled  by  hunger. 


328  S6NNICA 

They  passed  out  of  Saguntum  on  the  lower  side,  march- 
ing in  the  glare  of  the  burning  city  straight  upon  the 
camp  of  the  besieger. 

A  cohort  of  Celtiberians  hurrying  toward  Saguntum 
was  routed,  put  in  disorder,  harried  by  this  troop  of  des- 
perate beings  who  ran  with  lowered  head,  striking 
blindly  at  everything  before  them.  Farther  on  they 
encountered  other  troops  who  advanced  in  battle  form 
to  meet  the  sally,  and  they  collided  with  the  line  of 
shields,  unable  to  stand  in  a  struggle  hand  to  hand. 

The  Saguntines,  debilitated  by  the  long  siege,  their 
strength  exhausted  by  hunger  and  sickness,  could  not 
withstand  the  clash.  The  Celtiberians  wounded  merci- 
lessly with  their  two  edged  swords,  and  the  company 
of  sick  men,  women,  and  children,  fell  rapidly  beneath 
their  blows. 

Actseon,  fighting  with  his  shield  before  his  face  and 
his  sword  raised  against  two  vigorous  soldiers,  saw 
Sonnica  receive  a  stab  in  the  head  and  drop  her  weap- 
ons, doubling  up  in  agony. 

"  Actaeon !  Actaeon !"  she  cried,  forgetting  her  bitter- 
ness, the  fire  of  her  old  love  returning  to  her  with  death. 

She  fell  face  downward  on  the  ground.  The  Greek 
started  toward  her,  but  at  the  same  instant  his  ears 
buzzed  as  if  an  immense  mass  had  crashed  upon  his 
head ;  in  his  side  he  felt  the  chill  of  the  steel  perforating 
his  flesh;  everything  turned  black,  and  he  sank  to  the 
ground,  as  if  falling  into  a  dark  and  gloomy  pit  the 
bottom  of  which  he  would  never  reach. 


THE  LAST  NIGHT  3:29 

The  Greek  awoke.  His  chest  was  weighted  down  by 
a  form  as  heavy  as  a  mountain.  He  was  not  sure  whether 
he  really  existed.  His  members  refused  to  obey  him. 
Only  with  a  painful  effort  could  he  open  his  eyes  and 
understand  confusedly  why  he  was  there. 

Gradually  he  realized  that  the  something  which 
oppressed  his  breast  was  the  corpse  of  a  gigantic 
soldier.  Actaeon  thought  he  remembered  having  plunged 
his  sword  into  the  body  of  the  warrior  the  instant  that 
he  fell  into  the  dense  and  mysterious  night. 

He  looked  around.  A  ruddy  glow,  as  of  an  endless 
aurora,  scintillated  on  the  abandoned  weapons  and  out- 
lined silhouettes  of  the  bodies  lying  in  heaps  or  scat- 
tered over  the  field  contracted  in  weird  postures  by  their 
final  convulsions. 

In  the  background  a  city  was  burning.  The  blackened 
and  shapeless  structures  stood  out  against  the  curtain  of 
flames,  and  through  their  restless  splendor  the  walls 
of  the  Acropolis  trembled. 

Actaeon  remembered  all  that  had  happened.  That 
city  was  Saguntum;  the  conquerors  could  be  heard 
howling  through  the  streets;  they  were  covered  with 
blood;  setting  fire  to  the  houses  still  untouched;  cursing 
a  people  which  only  gave  itself  up  after  consuming  its 
riches;  killing  in  their  fury  whatever  living  thing  they 
encountered  in  their  way,  and  stabbing  the  wounded. 

As  he  realized  this  he  knew  that  he  was  not  dead, 
but  that  he  was  going  to  die.  He  knew  it  by  the  terrible 
weakness  which  overpowered  him,  by  the  mortal  cold 
creeping  up  to  his  heart;  by  his  mind  which  was  grow- 
ing dull,  and  was  now  but  a  flickering  light. 

What  of  Sonnica?     Where  could  he   find  Sonnica? 


330  S6NNICA 

His  last  thought  was  to  reach  her  body,  which  must  be 
near.  He  wished  to  kiss  her  as  her  slave;  to  render 
her  that  tribute  before  he  died.  But  as  he  made  a  su- 
preme exertion,  raising  his  head  from  the  ground,  a  wave 
of  warm  and  sticky  liquid  covered  his  face.  It  was  his 
last  blood. 

Then  he  seemed  to  see,  with  the  vagueness  of  a  van- 
ishing dream,  a  kind  of  black  centaur,  galloping  over 
the  slain,  and  looking  at  the  blazing  city,  laughing 
with  malevolent  joy. 

He  passed  near.  His  horse's  hoofs  ploughed  into  the 
body  of  the  Celtiberian  lying  on  his  breast.  The  dying 
Greek  recognized  the  horseman  by  the  light  of  the  con- 
flagration. 

It  was  Hannibal,  his  head  uncovered,  possessed  by  the 
fury  of  triumph,  galloping  on  his  jet-black  horse  which 
seemed  to  have  caught  the  ferocity  of  the  rider,  whinny- 
ing, treading  on  the  fallen  bodies,  lashing  his  tail  above 
the  litter  of  battle.  To  the  Greek  he  appeared  an  in- 
fernal demon  coining  for  his  soul. 

Dimly,  like  a  blurred  vision,  he  saw  the  face  of  Han- 
nibal animated  by  a  smile  of  pride,  of  cruel  satisfaction 
— the  majestic  and  ferocious  visage  of  one  of  those  gods 
of  Carthage  who  showed  clemency  only  when  human 
sacrifices  were  smoking  upon  their  altars. 

Hannibal  laughed  on  seeing  that  at  last  the  city 
which  had  detained  him  eight  months  before  her  walls, 
was  his.  Now  he  was  free  to  go  on  working  out  his 
audacious  dreams ! 

The  Greek  saw  no  more.  He  sank  finally  into  eternal 
night. 


THE  LAST  NIGHT  331 

Hannibal  galloped  on  around  the  city,  and  beholding 
the  purplish  glow  of  the  coming  day  breaking  over  the 
sea,  he  reined  in  his  horse,  he  looked  into  the  East,  and 
extending  his  arm,  impatient  to  stretch  it  across  the 
blue  expanse  bounded  by  the  horizon,  he  shouted  threat- 
eningly, as  if  challenging  an  invisible  enemy  before 
falling  upon  it: 

"Rome! Rome!" 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY,  LOS  ANGELES 

COLLEGE  LIBRARY 

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